Morning Glory
by Enchanting Grace
Summary: "Real life… You never truly get what you want, not even I succeeded in getting what I wanted. What I have is a shadow of the man I sought after, only the shell; the core damaged and lost which I am to blame." Human!Amerus Detective AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters.

 **Summary:**

 _Real life… You never truly get what you want, not even I succeeded in getting what I wanted. What I have is a shadow of the man I sought after, only the shell; the core damaged and lost which I am to blame. Rusame AU_

 **Status:** Complete.

 **Genres:** Drama, Romance, Mystery, Suspense, Crime.

 **Warning:** See the Genre's list. There will be a couple scandals or two in here. Also, Angst, Betrayal, Mystery, all that jazz in Crime-Romance movies. Also, since this is an M-rated fic, there will be heavy scenes not intended for a general audience. With language and explicit scenes at some parts, this is not a light story For those who are faint to the heart, or could/does not stomach mature themes, this is not for you. You are warned.

 **A/N:** This is my first time doing a setting in a bar. With the known impressions that surround bars, I believe that this will be a nice change of scenery compared to earlier works. You can just _know_ that there will be all sorts of drama and chaos in a bar- a perfect landscape for a uneasy story.

Also, this is my first story starring Alfred as a lead character. In the other works, he has been a dueteragonist, a side character, or even an antagonist. Because of this being my first story with him, I hope that I'll be able to execute his character well.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Late in the night, the city choked by the heavy haze of heat. In the night sky, the moon engulfed by blackened clouds, it was a night of bad omens; the kind of night where nothing good happens. The superstitious believers are huddled in the sanctuary of their homes, holding their family close as darkness surrounds the city.

Shrouded in the hub of the underground booze joints a cigarette burn; the silence deafening. The unsullied spiced tobacco crackles as smoke swirls with an inhale, minuscule flakes of ash flutters down. A drawn out exhale catches the attention of the shadowy figures occupying the dimly lit bar. Curious eyes veiled by fedoras take a gander, watching the two men exchange leveled looks; nothing of interest, they, once again, lose themselves within their drink, swallowing down the day, welcoming the alcohol induced liberation.

The cigarette flickers, the burning ash brightens as the smoker takes another long drag, lips puckered as smoke bellows out, polluting the dank air. A brow rose in challenge.

"Murder you say?" The smoker pulls another drag from the cigarette, accompanied it with a sharp exhale. Lips turned up, as the body leans back; casting the smoking dark featured man deeper in shadows. His eyes traveled his inquisitor's hearty frame, searching.

"Yes, murder. And you are the last documented person to see him alive, so, Alfred; care to tell your side of the story?"

Alfred scoffs, sitting himself up, he pulls one more deep inhale of the poisonous smoke, sucking it in deep, before blowing it out and quickly outing the burning cancerous stick. "If I'm a suspect, shouldn't we be doing this in a more private setting…?" Alfred paused, flashing a grin. "What should I call you? Copper, Dick, or Gumshoe?" He mocks, leaning in, crossing his arms on the table, a hand idly toying with a glass of straight gin. "What do you prefer?" He inquired fingering the wet rim of his tumbler, making it sing.

"I prefer the correct term, Detective."

Alfred smirked. "Huh, the unimaginative sorts are we. I bet you do everything by the book. You're hard boiled aren't you?" He derides.

"I'm not here for entertainment, Alfred. I'm looking for some answers," The detective shot back, his patience wearing thin. He snagged a hold of Alfred's white collar, pulling him in with a snarl. His eyes burrowing into Alfred's dark honey colored iris's, witness the cockiness fade into annoyance, making those honey eyes darken. "And I hear talk that you got some answers to my questions, understand."

Alfred pulled away, scoffing off the detective's bark as he unruffled his shirt. He struck a match the flame lit his high cheekbones, casting his dark eyes in shadows; another cigarette burns. "When I left he was breathing fine."

"I want details Alfred; why, where, how, and when." The detective asked, pulling a small crisp note pad from his coat.

Alfred raised a playful dark wingtip brow. "All in that exact order?"

"Don't get smart with me; I'm not in the mood." The lawman snapped.

Alfred shrugged, "I guess this means you won't be buying me a strong drink of hooch." Alfred chuckled at the leveled glare he received from the frowning detective. He couldn't help but to gaze at the copper's strong jaw and cleft chin, couldn't help smiling seeing those pale lips scowl from irritation. "Very well, I'll tell you everything you want to know," Alfred leaned over the table, the detective meeting him halfway. "I got a room up top-"

The man cut Alfred off. "Why the privacy, Alfred, If you ain't got nothing to hide?"

Alfred's eyelids dropped. "Let's just say, it's a manner of secretive sensitivity."

The detective's thin upper lip twitched as his thick brows furrowed in slight confusion. Alfred chuckled with a quirk his lip, flashing a few white teeth. "Surprised," His snigger grew. "I'm quite a smart feller, shocking, I know." Alfred pushed himself away from the table, finishing his gin with a gulp, leaving the cigarette to burn away in the ashtray.

No one paid mind to them, not bothering to lift their heads as they stood away from the old worn down table and mismatched chairs. Alfred gave the detective another look back over his shoulder the detective was a big man, the kind you see in a boxing match; intimidating, a kind of man you would pay to have as muscle. He nodded to the back, to a door nearly hidden by the sheer gloominess of the patrons obstructing the way.

Alfred moved forward, virtually glided through the muck of depression, his stride practiced, the detective couldn't help admiring the self-confidence of his stride; the only thing that gave any elation to this rundown bar. Their trek up the darkened stairway was no different, Alfred's aura once again was the only joy found here, the steps dirtied and worn groaning from the weight of his feet. The dim lights flickered, preparing itself for the end, its faint yellow bulb generated bulky stirring shadows; your typical rundown two story building. The walls were poorly painted, which he assumed at one point was a sunny yellow now more of a faded rusted orange, the aged lead paint chipping away. The flower printed wallpaper peeling from its corners, curving in on itself; as if trying to run away from the dank building; a feeling he was beginning to sympathize and identify with. The detective shuddered at the squander of the place, cringing at the idea of the state of Alfred's room.

Alfred threw a quick glance back to the man trailing him, "My stop." Alfred fished the key from his pocket; unlocking the door and tossing it wide open allowing the tall, robust man behind him in.

The detective grinned, "I insist that the owner lead the way."

Alfred cocked a brow. "Hm, a man who won't turn his back on another."

"Something I've learned the hard way." The detective explained.

Alfred smirked. "I bet, your line of work don't seem to cater to many friends." Alfred led the way in, sliding off his jacket and fedora throwing them onto the old simple creaky painted chair by the bed. He swept his fingers through his short gold hair, slicking it back, keeping it from his eyes.

The man of the law step in closing and locking the door, he watched, to some degree of amusement, as Alfred stiffen to the sound of a click. "I guess in your line of work, Alfred, you're always expecting the worse, not many friends." He took in the room; taking inventory of everything, scoffing slightly to himself at the decor, reminding him more of a sleazily room in a brothel, red, lots of red splashed everywhere from pillows to curtains, and yet still quite Spartan.

Alfred shrugged off the white dress shirt leaving his off-white colored undershirt and the plain black straps of his suspenders holding up his black trousers. He nodded to a chair in the corner. "Take a seat, detective." Alfred moved over to the record player perched on the nightstand, taking a quick glance over the records piled on the floor, he chose something that tickled his fancy.

"I am not here for a party, Alfred." He took his seat, observing Alfred with a critical eye, finally able to catalog the man, no longer cased in dark shadows. Alfred stood a good 5'10 foot, a few good inches shorter than himself, muscled but not as barreled shaped around the chest like him. Alfred had quite a face, almost streamline, high cheeks, strong jaw, pale skin; must be from staying inside more; not a sunbather the detective thought. It was when he took in those lips, thicker than an ordinary man's lips ought to be; Alfred glanced his way, his eyes almost flirty. The detective averted his eyes to stare out the window, avoiding those suggestive eyes.

The detective observed the steam pour from under the streets, making the air humid and stifled. Three men staggered the along the sidewalk, arms slung around shoulders to maintain balance as they laughed merrily, drunk; unaffected by the heat. The detective could see the grand view of the glittering grey city; hear the potent sounds of her cradled children nestled in her concrete arms.

"I don't like people listening in, nor, do I enjoy the sounds of the gals in the other rooms knocking boots with their johns. I don't suppose you want to hear it?" Alfred explained, the cocky grin catching the detective's attention.

"No. I suppose not." He'd answered, casting one more glance to the window, watched the three men climb into the brightly colored cab; the street now barren.

"Good." Alfred placed the needle on a flat black disc. "I hope you don't have a problem with the colored canary Bessie Smith." Alfred smiled to himself. "Or is Artie Shaw more of your platter?" Alfred turned and spread his arms as one would do to show off an advertisement banner, "Let me guess, Artie Shaw, Nightmare. Make you feel plenty rugged, eh, dicky." Alfred closed his eyes, chuckling at the glare he knew was directed his way. "Personally, I enjoy-"

The detective cut Alfred off with a growl of annoyance. "Enough, Alfred, you wanted your privacy, you've got it. Now answer my questions."

Alfred shrugged and replied airily with a wave of indifference. "Ask away."

The detective sat straighter, notepad in hand. "How do you know the victim? What was your relationship with Mr. Ivan Braginski?"

Alfred looked out the window, "Well, at first meeting we were hardly friends, until we warmed up to each other."

"So you guys didn't like one another at first. Why, what happened? And I want all the details, Alfred, do not omit anything."

Alfred rested his chin on a fist. He smiled broadly as a particular song by his lovely canary played. "It was the fall of 1914, on the south side of town. Eight years ago, that's when I first met the man, and as I said, we didn't get along. I was operating a small clip joint business, minor stuff, some hooch and jazz, a little bit of gambling; just something to make life easy, and Ivan, well he was muscling into my business. We feuded, trying to buy up property, muscle businesses for protection payments, we did it all. But no matter how hard I tired, it always seemed Ivan was there first, and before I knew it, he owned almost the whole damn district." Alfred smiled, fishing out a cigarette. "I was going to put a hit out on the bastard."

"You were going to have him killed." The detective's brow rose.

"Yes, I was planning to have him killed, of spring the same year, but, as I said. It seemed he was always ahead of me. Ivan and five of his men came knocking down my office door." Alfred sighed and took a haul of his cigarette. "He should have killed me that day, and we were rival businessmen, yet, he held out his hand," Alfred gently laughed to himself. "I swore, at that moment, I thought I was going to go sleeping with the fishes, but no, not Ivan. He let me keep my life, and ran me out of the business, taking over my joint and property. I hated the fuck for some time after that, left only with a few Lincolns in my pocket and the clothes on my back, pulling petty cons to survive."

"It doesn't sound like to me you were friends, more like you got reasons to murder."

Alfred sighed. "Indeed, but you didn't let me finish. It's rude to cut in, you know." Alfred flashed a smirk. "It was a few years later I saw him again, summer of 29', Bessie was in town, I'll never forget it, she was singing 'Nobody knows you when you're down and out', I was at the bar enjoying a damn good scotch when I seen him again. Now, on first sight, he made my booze taste bitter…"

-0-

 _Alfred sat at the bar, servers milling about behind him, weaving through the silk covered tables' and flutes of bubbly champagne on silver platters. The marvelous sound of Bessie filled the room and hushed the crowd, it was what she done best, silence the chatter of the bars inhabitants by a single tune from those lush lips and powerful lungs. He tapped his foot against the polished wood, lightly humming in his tumbler, following her verses._

 _The Venue catered to the rich, famous, politicians, and high society types, the majority, however, were the elitist of business; the families. It was bright and screamed money; the patrons made the place dazzle with high priced suites and expensive jewelry. The booze was full of flavor, spiced and aged just right. It wasn't the kind of place men would bring their mistresses, it was the kind of place they brought their trophy wives, make connections, and show off wealth. It was the kind of place poor men dream of… The kind of poor he is these days._

 _He just got lucky. Johnny Boy owed him a favor for saving his ass from certain death at the train station years ago. A few muscle men almost tossed John's lanky butt on the tracks, after plugging him with a few lead holes of course; they would've too if he didn't jump in. That boy was lucky he wanted those very men dead. It added a favor in his bank from Johnny Boy, and it had been cashed in today. Once he discovered Johnny worked within the fine establishment. The boy's favor was repaid by an unlocked back door, turned backs and blind eyes._

 _He came looking icy, lifting a tux from an old fat cat uptown was too easy, all one had to do was pose as a bag boy outside of the ritzy shops. Alfred smiled, tugging the labels of his newly required suit, he stood by that door for a good portion of the afternoon waiting for a man roughly his size to come out, offered his services. The moment that wrapped box touched his hand he took off running as if the devil himself was chasing him._

 _Now here he sat with expensive whiskey in hand, Bessie filling his ear, and a damn nice coat around his shoulders, all in all, it was a great day._

 _"She's singing your tune, Alfred." Ivan leaned against the bar wearing his white form fitting suit, it shined against the Mahogany of the bar, and his deep green vest made his emerald eyes pop. Complete contrast to Alfred's slightly loose black and navy blue, which had done nothing special for him next to Ivan's grandeur, it was like placing a dull daisy next to an exotic lotus._

 _A glass was held loosely by Ivan's fingertips as his attention was solely on Alfred. Ivan's larger body made his presence hard to ignore. Alfred could feel Ivan's emerald eyes on him, almost piercing him with their intensity._

 _Alfred growled in his own glass, eyes like a predator. His great day was taking a sharp vinegary turn. "Come to rub it in?"_

 _Ivan shrugged a broad shoulder, his elbow resting on the bar top, causing the button up strain against his wide, powerful chest. "Not really. I came for the music; I didn't expect you to be here." Ivan gave Alfred a slow look over. "Isn't this swanky place out of your price range?"_

 _If looks could kill, Ivan would be incinerated to smoldering ashes, all 6 feet of him. "That is none of your concern."_

 _"Working the trade?" Ivan inquired with a quirk of a brow._

 _Alfred cheeks flushed a reddish hue by the audacity of Ivan's statement. "How dare you, I am no protsy, taking johns for money!" Alfred hissed under his breath turning to face the man, his fist clenched, ready to punch Ivan right in his button nose._

 _Ivan chuckled light heartily. "Take it easy, it was only a joke."_

 _Alfred snarled his fist tightened, his nails leaving indents in his palms. "Well, sorry if I don't find being accused of being a prostitute humorous."_

 _Ivan held his right hand up in surrender. "Forgive me, I was trying to lighten the mood with a joke." Ivan looked Alfred over once again, taking on a more serious approach. "But really Alfred, what are you doing for work now?"_

 _Alfred screwed up his lips, averting his attention to the stage, watching the band sway as they played, still dwarfed by Bessie's soul filled voice. "Nothing." He whispered._

 _Ivan almost didn't catch the answer from his former rival, if he hadn't strained his hearing. He licked his lips, as he looked over Alfred for the third time. "If you're interested I got something of an opening, and I think you would be a good fit for the job."_

 _Alfred growled, slamming his drink down. "I am no charity case." He turned fully on Ivan, standing toe to toe, stretching up to get as much height as possible. "You can take it and shove it, Ivan; I got better things to do."_

 _Ivan sighed, catching Alfred's upper arm in a tight grasp as he tried to stomp away. "Like what? Go back to your cold shoebox with an empty stomach and sleep on a hard floor." Alfred's honeyed eyes flashed with fury, clashing with Ivan's bright emeralds. Ivan pulled him in closer, almost whispering in Alfred's ear. "I'm offering you some damn good greenery, and a warm bed to lay your head."_

 _Alfred mulled over it for a few minutes his tongue clicking the roof his of mouth; until the need for good pay outweighed the idea of working for his formal rival. He swallowed his pride. "Where do you want me to be?"_

 _Ivan's smile reached his eyes. "Down by the docks, 11 tomorrow night."_

 _"I'll be there." Alfred shrugged off Ivan's large hand, still feeling the pressure and warmth of it as he made his way out of the jazz club._

 _Ivan grinned throwing a look over his shoulder, he called out to the hastily retreating man. "Don't forget a coat, gets cold down there."_

 _-0-_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You went to the docks then; what was the job?" The detective questioned, crossing his legs as he scribbled a few notes.

Alfred stood lazily leaning against the bedpost; arms and legs crossed his attention focused towards the window, the city lights glittering, his body was there in the present, and yet his mind wandered, reliving the night he became one of Ivan's trigger men. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he swallowed down another drink. "What do you think, detective. The usual, raid a few shipments, pick up supplies, bootlegging isn't all that easy, you gotta' have supplies, or you ain't got any buyers. Simple. Although it was my first time getting my hands dirty. 'Gave me a whole new respect for grunts, thanks to Ivan."

"Much easier getting respectful employment." The detective grumbled.

Alfred laughed, shrugged the comment. "Ha, making .15 cents an hour, breaking your back in a sweat shop. Becoming like one of those mindless saps. I did better with cons any day; at least it got me a hot meal a day." Alfred tapped his pack, took a look within seeing it empty, grumbled under his breath, and crumbled it, tossing it to an unforgiving corner to rot. "Where was I again?"

"You did a job for Ivan, and now you were going to tell me how you guys became best of buddies."

Alfred snorted and shook his head. "I wouldn't say 'best of buddies,' detective, more like… no, that's going ahead." Alfred slid down the post, sitting down on the mattress. "I was running with the boys, never seen much of Ivan then, only on payday. I preferred it like that. I was still sore at the man, but didn't complain when I got my share. It was only a few months in working for a guy that I started seeing him more often. Little did I realize, even though I didn't see much of him, but he kept an eye on me, watching me."

"Makes sense, you both were rivaling businesses, and as you said, you were still pretty sore." The detective slanted back in his chair, and a notepad loosely balanced on his knee.

Alfred scoffed humorously, a twinkle in his eye. "As did I." He replied.

The detective moved in, tapped his pen against the used paper. "What do you mean?"

"I thought the same, until I realized how closely he was watching me. But, I'll get to that soon enough." Alfred stood, turning back to his small dresser. "Drink?" He offered.

"Sure, I got a feeling I might need a stiff drink."

Alfred laughed; one filled of good nature, the kind one would share with a long time friend. "Ah, a man who doesn't trust me enough to turn your back to me, yet you trust me enough to take a drink from me." Alfred poured two glasses, handing one of the amber liquid to the lawman with a raised brow. "It could be a Micky Finn."

The detective returned the raised brow; his liquid colored chocolate eyes sparkled with good humor. "I didn't think you'd be the drugging sort." He retorted.

Alfred chuckled, "Ah, only the sort to stab you in the back?" he smirked, taking a sip of his drink. There was something about the copper' that Alfred couldn't put his finger on; it was nearly effortlessness to open up to the man. "Or could it be, you're starting to think good of me?"

The detective shook his head lightly with a smile of his own, "Maybe…" taking a sip of his drink, the liquid amber burned his throat and chest; only in the best way possible. "Now, let's get back to it." The detective passed a look over his notes. "You said he was watching you carefully, due to your past relation as rivals."

"Yes and no…" Alfred sat down once again; his shoulders slightly slumped as a small shiver raced up his spine. "I knew he was watching me after awhile, and slowly as the days went by, I was finding myself interacting with him more often. Interactions that would seem normal, discussing plans, drop offs and pick ups, certain men that needed a talking to, watching over the establishment. Yet, they were peculiar, queer."

"What do you mean, Alfred?"

"It was the way he would talk to me that was strange, the way he looked at me. Not the kind of look a boss gives one of his Brunos, or a past rival." Alfred sighed; it seemed as though a great weight was placed upon him, his eyes nearly dulled; the playfulness that once was there gone, confounding the detective.

"You're losing me, Alfred…"

-0-

 _Alfred leaned against the railing of the Gin-Mill, ladies and gents dancing and drinking their merriment, and confetti littered table tops and floor, people milling around ignoring the outside world, throwing their cares to the wind. Alfred's sights fixed on a particular dame serving hooch. Her breast pressed tightly against her chest, pushing them up, giving him a wonderful view of her ample bosom. Her eyes were the deepest blue he ever saw, vibrant, reminding him of calm seas on a summer day, shined so brightly even in such a happening exuberant place._

 _"Alfred, come into my office. Boys, you can leave your post." Ivan exclaimed, giving Alfred a slight jump. Ivan gave a quick glance to the woman Alfred was gawking so intently at, and scoffed lightly._

 _"Boss, we can't leave you with any guards. Ya' need protection." A bulky dimwitted Bruno stammered- George, Alfred believed._

 _Alfred chuckled, as Ivan huffed, giving a damn good hard look at the lackey. "Well then, stand at the bottom of the steps, and don't let anyone up, but get yer' ass away from my door." Ivan turned in a huff, leaving the door to sway on its hinges as he moved further into his office._

 _Alfred took a last quick glance over to the servicing dame before pushing off the railing. "So, what do you want me for?"_

 _Ivan chuckled, shaking his head. "Still not calling me boss, Alfred?"_

 _Alfred found a perfectly good wall to lean against, looking like the rebellious teen, he studied Ivan. "Hasn't gotten me in trouble yet, so, I figure, why not?"_

 _"One day Alfred, that smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Ivan's sight fixated on the spread of papers littering his desk, and with a coy raise of a brow he beckoned Alfred closer. "Going to come over here for a little gander, Alfred?"_

 _Alfred furrowed his brows, confused, why would Ivan speak to him with a playful tone; a tone he wasn't too keen of, it made him uneasy. "I'm not entirely sure I want to…"_

 _"Don't be so timid, makes you look like a shy doll." Ivan smiled, giving Alfred a glance, crooking his finger in a come hither motion._

 _Alfred all but growled, kicking off the wall he moved in closer, weary. As he got to the desk, he looked over the papers, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, nothing left undone; which confused him all the more. Alfred quirks a brow at Ivan, stumbled slightly, thrown off balance by how much closer Ivan was - more than he needed to be, Alfred could feel the heat of the man at his side. "What do you need my help with?"_

 _Ivan grinned, moving in closer, his hand sneaking and slithering behind Alfred's back going unnoticed, until said hand gripped the back of his neck, his chest swelled in panic, believing this was it, this was when Ivan drove a knife in his guts. Instead, what happen was anything but, yet, just as shocking to the senses._

 _Ivan hauled him in, smashing their chests together giving Alfred no room to move. Ivan growled, pulling Alfred in by the scruff of his neck, boxing him in, crushing and grinding their groins simultaneously; both groaning at the sensation. It was aggressive, and forced, but he knew: Alfred would not be romanced like some dame; he needed to be dominated, shocked into it, show him what he never knew he wanted._

 _Ivan wanted to do this for so long, to feel that body collided with his own, and to touch that pale skin. It nearly drove him mad, this unexplainable need he had for Alfred, and it was something he could not deny himself any longer._

 _Alfred stood frozen, his body in utter shock by the very masculine frame holding him close like he was some dame. His throat constricted, unable to form any speech, the dominate force of Ivan rendered him stupid and scared, like a doe in headlights; he needed to stop this, to push away, scream, shout, punch, kick, bite, anything! Alfred felt trapped in his own body, only able to find enough will power to tilt his head up, and question Ivan with his too wide eyes. He did not receive a spoken answer instead a pair of lips crashed against his own, overpowering his smaller frame._

 _Alfred unlocked his body and let loose a muffled shout, his hands finding perches on Ivan's strong chest, his fingertips felt the pectorals flex at his touch and Alfred pushed with all he had, adrenaline pumping, roaring, ready to fight._

 _Ivan snaked his large free hand on Alfred's hip, pulling him in closer, locking him in his embrace, slipping over to the struggling man's firm tight backside, his arm barring Alfred in, trapping him, almost stilling his frantic pushing. He groaned in those lips, and Alfred tasted as he expected he would, feral, like a wild animal. His hand wandered greedily feeling and groping the firm gluts. His lips were devouring the smaller man he held tightly, pausing only to pant, sucking in Alfred's panicked breaths; savoring it as if it was an intoxicating aged red wine. His groin tightened from Alfred's struggling, and he squirmed nearly violently against him, making their chests rub together igniting a fiery friction within him; his growl came from the very pit of his stomach. His hand moved up from his prisoner's neck into Alfred's thick raven hair, fisting the strands he pulled his head back. Exposed that thick column to his ravenousness mouth, nipping and biting, nuzzled his face in the other's neck, breathing in his cool musky cologne, until a right fist made contact with his temple._

 _Ivan cursed and stumbled back, his palm rubbing the abused area. His eyes turned a violent green, and his lips lifted into a righteous snarl. "Little bitch!" Ivan bellowed, echo ricocheting off the walls._

 _Alfred was heaving at this point, his body shaking, his fists balled and ready. His mind running through so many thoughts he couldn't process any of them. "You fucking, gunsel!" He shouted right back, slowly backing away, and he snarled, gnashing his teeth at Ivan , both men reminiscent of two alpha lions fighting over a kill. Alfred kept a sharp eye on Ivan, making his way towards the door, never showing his back, he was ready to run and never look back._

 _Ivan stood straight, a look of utter fury crossed his eyes at the insult. He licked his lips, tasting the echo of Alfred's flavor. "Tell no one."_

 _"What that you're a pansy fruit! Cause trust me, I ain't telling anyone I had another man's tongue down my throat." Alfred growled, his body still shaking with the adrenaline pumping thunderously in his veins._

 _Ivan visibly relaxed, stretching to his full height, head held high a slow grin spread his lips, he nodded towards Alfred's crotch. "You sure you're not that way inclined, Alfred?" He asked with a tilt of the head and raise of a brow._

 _It was only then Alfred realized his groin was throbbing; he didn't need to glance down to see the evidence, he knew what he would see; he felt sickened, and his stomach turned violently, felt the acidic burn in his chest travelling up. His mind screamed at him 'get outta' here' and he wasn't about to ignore that command, but a diminutive low hum came from his lower extremities, whispering 'stay'. His mind took precedence over his body, and he felt blindly for that doorknob, as if his life depended on it, quickly turned it, opening the door, almost out of here he thought, never letting the grinning visage of Ivan out of his view. "I am not…" Was his retort, it sounded lame even to him; nearly unbelievable._

 _Ivan tilted his head, somber, his green eyes unyielding. "As I said Alfred, tell no one, or I'll ensure you are muted." Alfred lifted his blunt chin; challenging. Ivan smirked. "Oh, and please do remember, you got a job to do tomorrow night," Ivan's smile dropped. "and you better be there, Alfred."_

 _Alfred shut the door behind him, and didn't look back as he all but ran from the establishment, not even taking a glance at the woman who caught and held his attention for some time._

-0-

The detective was troubled, unsure what to make of it.

Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, downing the rest of his drink, he seemed a little troubled himself telling tales not many would in this kind of situation. Alfred made his way towards the nightstand rifling through the contents, pushing aside old bank papers, and shipping notices, finding a loose cigarette along the way. A small victory in his eyes, with a smile he curbed his craving, lighting up and taking a long drag from the harsh old tobacco, coughed as it polluted his lungs.

The detective cleared his throat. "Alfred, so far, all you have been giving me is reasons as to why you would have him murdered, you're not helping your case of being innocent at all." The lawman tapped his notes, looking them over again; anyone could look them over and find several reasons as to why Alfred would have Ivan killed.

"You've better have some damn compelling evidence that would beg to differ."

Alfred shook his head, taking a long draw from his cigarette, mindless to the ash drifting to the floor. "That I do, detective. That I do." Alfred sat in his spot; his body leaned against the pole, his cigarette burned, his drink held loosely in his other hand. "However, it seems you're going to have another reason as to why I would have that man killed before you understand why I wouldn't."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"It was an edgy time then, although, I did keep my mouth shut about it." Alfred flashed a grin. "I like livin' and I damn well wasn't going to tell anyone about it. I wasn't going to have my manhood questioned." His eyes locked on the lawman, and he chuckled with a wave of his hand. "I guess that's the stigma of all men, their manhood, don't you agree, detective?"

The man's cheeks colored, fidgeting in his seat under the dark gaze. "I have no idea what you mean."

Alfred smiled widely; almost cruelly. "I think you do, detective. Men strut about, boasting about the many dames they bedded, how many hearts they broken, all to make themselves appear more… masculine. Big macho guys who can beat ten men at a time, yet, under the covers, when no one is listening, many of them, they're taking cock."

The man growled cheeks burning. "Like I said, Alfred, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Alfred laughed heartily. "Coy." He all but purred deep from his throat; his lips wrapped around the butt and sucked in a swirl of smoke, letting it fill his lungs; he continued with a slight gesture of the hand. "As I was saying." Alfred cracked a few joints, lolling his head from side to side, working out the stiffness. "Ivan kept me close by, possibly to make sure I don't talk secret tales, or maybe he just liked me that much." Alfred winked. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened, so, as such, I started to feel comfortable. And like most men in my position, I had something on the bastard, good blackmail material, wouldn't you agree?"

"I believe so, but what did you do with that information, Alfred?" The lawman asked.

"Ha, believe it or not, detective, nothing at all." With a miniscule shake of his head, in shame or guilt, who truly knew, he carried on. "Anything I ever had planned, never came into fruition."

-0-

 _Alfred balanced the expensive cigar between pinched lips, fat and pungent, the unique flavor stained his mouth. Eye's sharp, watching for little tells from his opponents, any sign of deceit, his fingers wrapped the top of his neatly folded cards; arrogance and confidence, traits which have kept him alive. With a tip of his chair, he kicked back watching one of the men sweat under his gaze. "All right boys, do or die, show em'."_

 _Ivan watched his interest intensely; a dark haired beauty draped against his side, seated comfortably on his lap. He felt the plump rump, squeezed as his eyes greedily consumed his old rival; Alfred's cockiness was legendary and desiring, he licked his lips, remembering the taste of Alfred's lips._

 _The men at the table grumbled, high stakes games weren't promising, especially when you played with a table shark. Alfred laughed heartily, no remorse. "Royal flush, boys." He gathered the loot with victorious joviality. "Maybe next time I'll take it easy on you poor saps."_

 _"Really, Alfred taking it easy on anybody seems like a big stretch to me." Ivan smirked, fiddling a coin between his fingers._

 _"With the right words and body language, you can make anyone believe just about anything." Alfred retorted, counting his loot airily._

 _"Very true, even make someone believe they have their loyalty, in which case, it's far from the truth." Ivan's smirk fell, cutting eyes took in Alfred. "Boys, leave us." His attention fell to the dame on his lap, gave a playful nip to her lip and a pat on her shoulder. "дорогой, leave the big boys to play."_

 _She giggled, batting her eyes like young fresh school girl gaining the attention of the high school jock. "Before you go возлюбленная, pour us a good stiff drink." Ivan requested with a wink._

 _"Anything for you, big boy." She purred, covering her mouth to stifle her light giggles._

 _Alfred sneered, revolted by the woman's childish and shameless flirting, he preferred his women bold and hard, accompanied with wits to challenge him, not an airy dimwitted horse. He thought back to the woman with those pretty blues, and wondered what she was like._

 _"Lets go a few rounds, put down some real wagers. You game, Alfred?" Ivan kicked back, looking as arrogant as Alfred, just as cocky, looking like a man that wasn't going to lose, a man without fear or concern. "That is, of course, if you ain't too afraid to take on your boss."_

 _Alfred eyed the woman as she approached, leaving Ivan's glass with a kiss, swaying the hips her mother had blessed upon her. A gentle hand trailing down his bicep, with a scoff and internal chuckle Alfred shook his head, the woman's attempts were deaf to Ivan. Which to Alfred was truly a crying shame, not because of her beauty, no, the man's attention was still locked onto him._

 _She continued to sway her hips, making her way giving him his drink, and as she moved down, nearly rubbing herself against him, he snatched the glass from her fingers, with a flippant mutter, turning his head from that woman. He felt her warm breath and lips brushed gently against his ear. "Tough guy." She whispered to him, her giggle soft and obnoxious. He shuddered minutely, scowling. He let her mocking words go; after all, she was Ivan's moll._

 _"She's a looker ain't she? She was just a small town gal looking for a swell fella' to sweep her off her feet." Ivan grinned, as his good little dame turned the lock, sealing the door with a soft click, his grin grew into a smile as Alfred stiffened at the sound._

 _Alfred lifted his glass taking a generous swallow of his drink, watching Ivan over the rim of his glass. "Fancy that, and she found you. Now how did that happen?" He asked conversationally._

 _Ivan moved in close over the table, akin to a man telling secrets. "It wasn't that long ago, I found her standing-"_

 _Alfred lifted a dismissive hand. "Oh yes, that's right. I don't care."_

 _Ivan only chuckled, while other men would have lost that hand for such outward disregard and disrespect, and he couldn't do that to Alfred. Ivan lifted his cup and tilted it to Alfred in a toast. "I do must commend you on your bravery, although, I think it is more of your smart mouth running again, which, I've told you before." He took a sip and watched intensely as Alfred returned the action. "It's going to get you in trouble one day."_

 _Alfred only shrugged, downing his drink, making a show of it; slamming down the glass he almost gagged from the burn racing down his throat to settle in his belly, hiding the action with a throat clearing; Ivan wasn't fooled._

 _"So Alfred, you ready to play?" Ivan grinned._

 _"I don't like your tone, Ivan, it could be understood poorly." Alfred replied._

 _Ivan snickered, dealing the cards with near expertise. "Got a big wager for you."_

 _"Yeah, and what's that?" Alfred asked, he didn't like this; he got a bad sensation in his gut, twisting and nagging._

 _"I know you don't wanna be just a grunt working for me, and I know you got ambitions. You want what you had, your little swanky clip-joint." Ivan replied, shuffling the cards his gaze never leaving Alfred challenging honeys._

 _Alfred sat slightly straighter, mentally cursed himself, the slight show of eagerness didn't go unnoticed. "What of it?" He retorted, lifting his chin just considerably higher._

 _Ivan could read men and women alike, a trait needed in his profession, and Alfred was no different, no matter how much he tried to remain indifferent to the world – he could read him, and read him well at that. "You win; it's yours once again, to do whatever you wish. Hell, you can take the blue eyed dame with you to fuck for all I care." He shrugged, yet, his facial features were stone._

 _Alfred raised a brow; his heart jumped a few paces. "Really? All mine, no protection payments to you, or cuts?"_

 _Ivan leaned into his chair and shrugged. "Of course, all yours." He smirked watching Alfred debate the idea._

 _"And if I lose?" Alfred asked, he lightly stepped around his own question, not truly sure if he wanted to know the answer, but knowing it the very same._

 _"Well, I'm sure you can take a guess." Ivan winked making the other man cringe at the mere thought of 'what' he had in mind._

 _He mulled over the idea, looped it in his head; he felt jumbled; he felt, foggy… "You do realize, I haven't lost a game tonight." He countered._

 _"All the more incentive to go for it, wouldn't you agree?" Ivan retorted, "Although, if you are scared your luck has run out, the door is just behind you. I wouldn't look down at you, if you run, I would kinda' understand really, after-"_

 _"Deal the fucking cards, Ivan."_

 _The cards dealt and passed; faces hard and stony. Each flick of a card made new pairs, different moves, and different plays. Both men were facing off in the greatest game of bluffing, and reminiscent of two quarrelling vultures fighting over a carcass, picking and squawking. "Too much heat for you, Ivan ?" Alfred asked._

 _Ivan smiled with a leer. He replied, "I'm not the one sweating."_

 _Alfred frowned, feeling the sweat run the side of his temple; cold and clammy. He noticed his throat tighten from dryness; he shouldn't have drunk so much, the alcohol making his mind fuzzy and his body numb, yet, through the murkiness, he held his card handling wits, slipping cards from his hand into the sleeve, replacing them. "It's warm." He growled._

 _Ivan laughed, oh how he enjoyed Alfred. "Must be."_

 _He didn't like the look over he kept getting, nor did he enjoy the way Ivan licked his lips with such a concentrated stare, reminded him too much of a predator examining prey. He reached out to gather his addiction closer, hoping a cigarette would help clear his head and calm his strangely active nerves; however he missed._

 _"Now or never, Alfred, show your cards."_

 _Alfred lifted his swaying head to the best of his abilities, the alcohol getting the better of him; it wouldn't stop his cockiness, he won't allow Ivan to know, couldn't let him know how impaired he was. He dropped his card's face up, spreading them out sloppily. "Four aces. I guess I win."_

 _"Funny…" Ivan laid his hand down with much more elegance, one at a time, showing off the same set. "I got the same thing, strange, since there's only one book of cards."_

 _Alfred felt his chest pressed hard against the table, spread over it. He glared at Ivan and sneered, his arm hanging loosely at his side. "Fucking, cheat." He hissed, trying to raise his heavy head._

 _Ivan chuckle made Alfred shiver with trepidation. Ivan stood kicking back his chair. "That's the thing isn't it, when you get two notorious cheats in a game of hold em', there's only one way to truly win, isn't there?"_

 _"And that is?" Alfred slurred, an overwhelming panic came over him, his heart thundered, and lungs constricted._

 _Ivan stepped away from the table; moving in on the immobile man. "Always be one step ahead, Alfred."_

 _"Poison…" Alfred whispered from numb lips, feeling his body shutting down._

 _Ivan shook his head, lost to Alfred as his eyes begun to close. "No, Alfred, not poison." Ivan shuddered as his hand weaved into Alfred's hair, feeling the texture between his fingertips once again. "No, a sedative still being tested, Rohypnol, it takes 10 to 20 minutes to take effect, depending on the amount. Thought you would last for another 15 minutes, but then again, you were drinking." Ivan knelt down, his hand trailing down Alfred's back, feeling the relaxed muscles against his palm; his lips brushing against Alfred's ear, and chuckles as Alfred growled weakly. He tongued the shell, breathing hotly; his voice was light, soothing, and full of dark promises. "Don't worry doll, I'll take good care of you."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

-0-

 _Alfred felt groggy, head spinning like a merry-go-round, consciousness' slipping in and out, his body lax against soft sheets. He paused sheets… he opened a heavy lid taking in the new surroundings to the best of his abilities as the drug slowly crawled away from his system, shifting he felt the cool glide of silk at his back._

 _"Relax doll, you'll make yourself sick from doing too much. Just take your time, let it leave your system."_

 _Shifting to the voice ahead, he made out the large shape of a man, watched as the blurred figure came into view; growled. His memory of drinks, cards, and smoke sunk in; he was mickied. "What did you do to me, you fuck?"_

 _Ivan's chortle was light as it was deep, moving in on the prone man laying on the bed, his fingertips ghosting over exposed flesh. He hummed as said lips parted ever so slightly._

 _Alfred panicked, shifting from his spot, pushing away; only there was no give. He tugged and pulled with the laughable strength he had, the binds unmoving. Alfred snarled at the man moving in, seating himself at his hip, his quite bare hip. He choked on a breath, and the realization was setting in, bound, naked, and was for some time unconscious under the care of a pervert. "You… you…" The horror of his predicament robbed him of speech, his eyes wide, body coming to life with a jolt of revulsion and fright._

 _Ivan shook his head, his hand busying itself, trailing along the cool flesh of hardened muscle. "Do you feel fucked, Alfred?" Laying his hand flat against the heaving chest, he felt the tremors of Alfred's body vibrate against his palm, he stroked and soothed as you would a timid cat. "Trust me; I haven't done anything to you, yet."_

 _Ivan smiled, moving to straddle the frozen body beneath him, his hands running up the tense arms, pausing only to squeeze the flexed biceps, groaned deep from his chest from the profound need this man ignited in him. How long he watched this man from afar, admiring the body, staring into those dark bottomless honey eyes filled with a fervor for more in life, a hunger he wanted to taste. He wanted to experience those lips once again, he wanted to savor the taste and feel, wanted to know Alfred's unique flavor at orgasm, but, he knew, cornered animals attack with what they had left, and he wasn't willing to be bitten in defense._

 _Ivan's hands gently cupped Alfred's jaw, his thumbs playing with Alfred's jaw line, rubbing soothing circles, coaxing the bound man. Their eyes locked, his heated desire dropped a fraction seeing fear in those dark eyes, voided of the fiery passion he loved, stroked the strong, narrow chin with his thumbs, lovingly. "You see, Alfred, I do not enjoy it when my partner is knocked out, and I don't like rape."_

 _Ah, and there it was; those fearful eyes darkened, the fire that had attracted him for so long taking shape. The rage and spitefulness he longed for returning with vehemence._

 _Like a raging animal Alfred bucked, snarled and growled. "Really, and what the fuck do you think you're doing right now!" Alfred exclaimed, with more urgency he tried to buck off the man on him. "Cause' I know I ain't interested, and damn well didn't fucking bind myself to your fucking bed!"_

 _Ivan stroked Alfred's dark raven hair, soothing the seething man, shushing him gently, leaning in close, though not close enough for an attack from those luxuriant lips, his voice hushed like a prayer. "Believe me, Alfred, it won't be rape." Alfred would have loved to beg to differ, if only he weren't so confounded by the other._

 _Ivan moved with practiced elegance, gentle, leisurely taking his time; romancing. Gliding fingertips were like phantom breezes against the cool skin, travelling from neck to hip, ghostly brushing against flat dark nipple; each touch formed Goosebumps on the flesh of his intended. He laid gentle, lazy kisses on the sculpted chest, feeling the muscles and dips against his lips, breathing in the scent of a man, taking in his very essence. Not knowing if he wished to savor this moment or drown himself to it, like a martyr Ivan held himself back, he needed this man spread out before him to reciprocate, to give him his fire, his want._

 _The body before him remains stiff, unresponsive, but Ivan knew, that wouldn't be for much longer, with aggression he took a flat nip into his heated mouth, swirling his tongue, pressing it in, grinned delightedly at the first surprised sound coming from those tasteful lips. Ivan's hand joined the fray, and his fingertips twisted and pinched the other nub to attention, felt Alfred's groin shift away; Ivan wasn't having it, pressing his hips down, grinding his blood filled cock against Alfred's unresponsive one. He took a nipple between his teeth, gently dragging out, chuckled when he felt Alfred's soft cock twitch._

 _"S…stop this… please." Alfred whispered._

 _"No." A simple question, a simple answer. "You're beginning to like this." Ivan trailed his fingers over tight flesh._

 _Alfred swallowed the lump formed in his throat; hard truths never went down easy. He could feel his nerves with an intensity he had not before, those big warm hands stirring things within him, touching him in a way he never was touched before; usually he touched women in this manner. Still the fear lingered, the shame, he couldn't do this, and he was a man and a real man didn't bed other men. Leave alone being the one who takes it up the ass, yet, something primal was trying to breech the surface, deep in the dark places of his mind whispered 'more.'_

 _His heart jumped and raced as he watched Ivan's head, and felt the strong body above him slide down. His skin prickled and wave of warmth coursed through him when strong deft hands groped his inner thighs, pushing them apart; blushed as he allowed it. Teeth, mouth, and tongue assaulted the area, nipping and licking between each crevasse between thigh and groin, he couldn't help himself, couldn't quell the noise. The new sensations threw him; each lick and nip sent a shock through his system, and the multiple commotions between his thighs dazed him, it was exciting, pleasurable and ticklish all at once. Alfred peeked down, and his cock filled and heavy; he caught Ivan 's hungry eyes and groaned, lolling his head back against the mattress, burying his face into his shoulder, doing what he could to stifle his pleased moans._

 _Ivan all but devoured Alfred, his musk weighty and thick, he breathed him in, knowing he would never have his fill. He could feel Alfred's cock jerk and pulsate with each stroke of his tongue and smiled, seeing its rage for being ignored, with a flex it tapped his nose, Ivan snickered, wrapping Alfred's cock in a fist, he felt Alfred freeze. Ivan's gaze lingered on the angry cock; his lips just a breath away. "Sorry, I was so rude." He said to the head of Alfred's phallus._

 _With that amused apology, he took the twitching organ, sucking it down with adept ease, groaning at the flavor, the silky feel of the hardened rod pushing into his throat. Adoring the way it took up all space, as if claiming and marking his mouth as its territory, relished in it, wanting it to go deeper, allow it to seep its essence inside him, brand him._

 _Alfred gave no thought to halt his hips as they canted up, he wanted more, and his body demanded it, taking what it wanted; pushing deeper into the hot mouth devouring him, sucking him in. He tugged harshly at the bindings, and he need to touch, needed to push that mouth further, smother the bastard with his cock. Unable to break the bindings, he used the only give he had. He thrust his hips, moving them as he would when he bedded a woman for a good ol' rough time, dominating that mouth. His body heated, and rhythm built and maintain, taking his pleasure from the mouth working him over, never breaking its suction, wave upon wave of a building orgasmic high washed over him, escalating higher, needing to reach that necessary climax._

 _With only a touch, it was all lost, the sensation; bizarre and unnatural._

 _It only took that one simple touch to jar Alfred's movements, stunting his orgasm, stopping him altogether, even the ability to breathe left him. Ivan hushed the quieted whine, kissing and stroking the flesh before him while his finger rubbed and coaxed the tight clenched wrinkled orifice with lube and gentle movements. "Relax." He spoke into Alfred's thigh, worshipping the thick, strong muscle. Closing in on Alfred's waning erection, sucking it deep, working Alfred into fervor once again, all the while his finger probed. He could feel it loosen and tighten with each circular motion, making his own cock weep and flex, wanting nothing more than to slide in between those enticing cheeks._

 _The moment he felt Alfred's muscles loosen and his body rock against him, he slid in, experiencing what he desired for so long for the first time. Affectionately his free hand pat and rub against Alfred's chest, while his finger explored uncharted territory; hot and velvety. Letting the cock slip from his lax mouth, he leaned up on his elbow, taking in the man below him, watching his chest rise and fall, Alfred's lips parted, his beautiful dark eyes blurred and hazy. "That's it doll, relax and enjoy it, I'm gonna' make you feel real good." Ivan whispered._

 _Alfred turned his head away, hiding himself against his shoulder, his cheeks burned from embarrassment, but the hunger was consuming, enough so to make him forget himself. A jolt of pure electricity shot through him, making his vision white out and grind his hips down, making that finger push against that wonderful place. That magnificent finger stroked over it, pushing on it continuously, his eyes watered, groans coming from the pit of his stomach made itself known, arching, trying to get more. He felt that finger pulling out of him. "Please don't!" He gasped. "Please don't stop that."_

 _Ivan moved in closer, nuzzling Alfred's neck, he could feel Alfred's pulse race against his lips. "You want more, Alfred?" He didn't hear an answer, but he felt as Alfred nodded almost frantically, spreading his thighs even further. He groped Alfred, teasing his eager hole, slicking and prodding. He knew Alfred was becoming a mess, his body high and nerves teeming, he could hear it in his blood, the pounding heart, and broken moans. He slipped two fingers to the knuckle inside him, making him arch onto those fingers pushing them in deeper; it stunned him how greedily Alfred took them, how eager he was for it; his eyes almost rolled up at the realization, and he was ready for him._

 _Alfred clenched his teeth, moving up and down on those dexterous fingers, wanting something much more, he growled. "Just fuck me already!"_

 _Ivan smiled, oh yes, he was ready. He took position, slipping two fluffy pillows under Alfred's hips, rubbing his thighs. Ivan licked his lips, consuming the spectacle before him; Alfred ready and more than willing to be fucked. He took the jar, lathering up his aching cock, hissing at the touch._

 _Alfred watched entrap as Ivan took aim, and with some force, slid all the way in until his pelvis touched and pushed against his balls. It was fire, pure unadulterated fire; the stretch burned his very core, his backside ablaze, aching and oh so good, the pain and fire agitated his body in a bittersweet throbbing. His cock jolted through a spasm, flopping onto the side of his hip, pounding and leaking slick, smearing the skin. He wanted to wrap his body around Ivan's, who penetrated him so deeply; feeling as if his very core would split in two, instead all he could do was bow his hips, grind himself down, feeling that breathtaking pain, robbing him of the ability to breathe._

 _Alfred took his cock like a champion, grinding and arching for him, all the while Ivan could only vibrate and gasp, unable to move just yet, dazed by the astonishing sensation of Alfred's body. He could only watch Alfred, enrapt by him, the feelings he had, amplified tenfold, awestruck, and made utterly stupid by those hazy passion filled eyes directed to him, solely on him._

 _Alfred thrashed against his bindings, and he shuddered and panted; never halting his hips. "Take them off." He desperately pleaded, "Please, Ivan , take them off."_

 _Ivan returns to the present from Alfred's requests. Looking over the buckles, only to reach back, freeing the ankles first, groaned when the freed thighs wrapped tightly around his hips, squeezing and pulling him in, trying to make his cock slip deeper. He bit down hard on his lip, harshly groaning through sealed lips he removed the wrist binds._

 _In a blurred of movements and a push of power, they tumbled, Alfred wrapping himself around the larger body, pushing them into a seated position, he rode. Taking that pulsating cock in deeper, sliding his hips in a rowing fashion, frantically fucking in the position of long time lovers. Ivan looking up to him, with eyes filled of something more than pleasure, it was that something more that turned the frantic fucking into a deep and slow proper session. Alfred's hips moved with a slowly established grace while Ivan met the rhythm, wrapping his arms around Alfred's back, hugging his body close; their hearts beating to the same tune._

 _It was Alfred who initiated the kiss, explored the mouth of a man; felt the coarse stubble scrape against his own. It made his heart jump in excitement, and at first taste, he lost himself entirely; greedily he consumed Ivan 's lips, dominating his mouth, tasting the tang of himself there. He licked into his mouth, feeling Ivan's tongue return the favor in kind._

 _Two bodies worked together in a slow moving ardor, and hips rolled, and thrusts gently, striving for completion, and something more surprising, astonishing them upon discovery, there was something much deeper between them, something profound and misunderstood._

 _Ivan hand made its way between their sweat soaked bodies, slipping in with ease to wrapped itself around Alfred's hot throbbing meat, his fist fucking it slowly._

 _Alfred held Ivan closer, crushing his cheek against the middle of his chest, the build up reaching its end, "Ivan , I'm going to cum." He whispered into the mussed dark hair, his hands taking perch on Ivan's shoulders. "Make me cum."_

 _Ivan growled, holding on tighter, pushing the seated body under him and buried his head in Alfred's neck as he pushed in with more force, slow and sure, dedicated to the task at hand. Wildly Ivan groaned harshly as his cock throbbed, almost whined as Alfred's body locked tightly around him, he didn't stop; fighting the clenching hole, forcing his way in, blinded by his own orgasm taking him. He worked them both into a satisfied climax._

 _They held each other, ignorant to the mess between them, the cum stained abs and cum filled ass, there was too much between them and yet in the moments of orgasmic forgetfulness. They both ignored the world, ignored who they were, and basked into the musky air, the scents of sex, sweat, and hormones lulled them into a satiated dreamless sleep._

 _-0-_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The detective cleared his throat, fingers shaky as he loosens his collar nervously, looking anywhere, avoiding eye contact with the lazily sprawled man across from him, his drink empty. Unsure what to make of it all, his hand clammy from nerves or curiosity, he was unsure at this moment. Sure he had heard his share of stories from dames and their johns, and a few interesting kinks, but never had he heard of this. Of course, it happens, and he wasn't so ignorant to those facts of life, but, man willingly confessing it, well, that was defiantly something new in his books.

"Another drink, detective?" Alfred grinned, enjoying the copper's uneasiness. "Looks to me like you're in need of one."

He gave a brisk nod, handing over an empty glass still avoiding eye contact.

With a sigh, Alfred carried on, filling the drinks, nonchalantly continuing his story. "Not all that sure I can call it rape, due to my willingness towards the end of it, and my actions afterward." Alfred handed the drink and a bottle of whisky still half full, to the tense detective. It was then the detective looked at him questioningly, and Alfred gave a wink with a sly grin. "Looks like you're gonna' need more than just a drink or two." He snickered.

"Seems like it." He mumbled, graciously taking both offerings. He gave his host a leveled frown "Still, and that doesn't make me think you're innocent to the crime, Alfred."

Alfred sat, swishing his drink in hand. "No, it does not. However, I am not finished detective." He raised his glass in salute. "So where was I, oh yes, I remember now. After that night, and well, morning after, I wasn't sure about myself anymore. During the day, it was business as usual, but I couldn't look a damn soul in the eye, not after that, especially when I could feel the ache. I didn't even want to talk to Ivan or see his damn smug face, yet, when late at night, and all jobs are done, I found myself crawling in his bed." Alfred hummed in his glass, close to a moan as he closed his eyes. "I can't describe it to you, heck; I can't fully understand it myself. But when the lights are all gone and out, he made me feel things I can never duplicate with another."

"You loved him." The detective whispered taking a generous amount of whiskey, eyeing Alfred, eyed him carefully as he stiffened from the query.

Alfred's shoulders slumped, his glass hanging bi-carelessly by his fingertips, swaying. He looked away. "I'm not sure…" Alfred cleared his throat, straightening. "I've never had the joy of experiencing love."

The detective raised a brow, leaning closer to Alfred. "No siblings, any family, friends, pets?"

Alfred gave a sad smile, shaking his head. "I don't know my parents; I was too young to remember them. They sent me to an orphanage, for whatever reason. We were all told the same thing, and we weren't wanted, and I found no love in that place, just physical violence and hunger, and when I was eleven, I took to the streets." Alfred chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. "Sad to say, I found more kindness there than I ever did with the nuns."

"I'm sorry, Alfred."

Alfred snarled. "Why would you be sorry? You're not the one who put me there; you ain't the one who put the strap to me, fuck your apology."

He cleared his throat, fingers toying with his loose tie; uneasy. "Sorry." It was the detective's only reply, the only thing he could say to such a proclamation.

Alfred huffed, his gaze firm and hard; evident that he hadn't fully come to accept his past. He rubbed the side of his face, groaning under his breath as he mumbled nonsense to himself. "Forget about that, it's not important." Taking a shallow breath, he gave the detective a leveled stare. "You asked if I loved the man, and my answer is, I don't know, let's leave it at that. Now, for the contrary evidence which will prove I ain't your killer."

"You still got some incriminating evidence against you, Alfred. Motive, and whatnot." The detective mumbled.

"I could've had him killed, put a hit on em', I also had the greatest opportunity to have the deed done a year ago. However, I did not. Instead, I had a trip to the doc's with a bullet lodge in my chest." Alfred hauled the collar of the white tank lower, exposing the scar, the plain evidence of the entry wound, a painful one at that.

"Explain." The detective moved in, inspecting it. He sucked air between clench teeth, "Looks like it hurt. How did it happen?"

"Protecting Ivan bit the bullet with his name on it." Alfred leaned back against the bedpost, lightly rubbing the scar. "When you're in our business, you ain't got many friends, and the competition wants ya dead." Alfred shook his head, lifting his glass, a slight tremble of his hand. "I told him, told him it seemed fishy, but the fool didn't listen to me."

"Explain…"

"It was April 14, 1930. Ivan got some info on a shipment coming in, the usual stuff. The only thing different was the buyer of said supplies was locked up, and his right hand man was wearing the good ol' Chicago tux nine feet under. So there wouldn't anyone picking it up. Ivan saw it as an opportunity to make some good green without emptying his pockets." Alfred paused, eyeing his drink as the liquid swirled in the canter.

The detective arched a brow "And…"

-0-

 _Alfred growled to himself, the stench of fish and rot surrounded him, the lights low and hummed, he hated being down at the docks, despised it; unfortunately for him it wasn't going to change. He walked only a few paces behind Ivan , his hands deep in his own pockets, his stomach uneasy, he didn't like it, not one bit. He sped his pace catching up to his boss, his lover, in one last ditch effort to change the other's mind. "Ivan , I don't like this. Somethin' is off about it. I can feel it."_

 _Ivan only grinned, tilted his head to his worried lover. "Come on, nothing bad is gonna happen. You heard the man, and the buyer is locked up and his right hand man is dead. It's just gonna sit there, damn, Alfred, it's callin to us." He finished with a wink._

 _"I still say something's up." Alfred huffed._

 _"You could have stayed back if you're scared." Ivan chuckled, never slowing his pace. "If you want, doll, you can go back to the car, keep it warm for us."_

 _Alfred glared at the snickering brunos behind him, shutting them up. "I ain't sittin in the car like a dame. I think it's just stupid to believe a drunken stranger."_

 _Ivan stopped, giving Alfred his full attention. "Stop acting like a dame, and I won't call ya one. Alfred, you know damn well as I do, and this is just easy, fast money, and I ain't lettin some small time business sweep in and make a profit. Harden up ya nerves, or go to the car."_

 _Alfred snarled, but remained silent, and like a sheep he followed, further into the depths of the docks, reaching the assigned dock 11. No ship. Alfred's hackles rose, scanning the area. "Fuck." He cursed under his breath._

 _"The boat must be late. Boys, what time is it?" Ivan was the opposite of Alfred, calm and relaxed._

 _"10, boss."_

 _Alfred eyed the surrounding area, looking sharply at the crates, feet grounded. "I told you somethin's goin on. Your easy money was supposed to be here 2 hours ago."_

 _"Calm down Alfred, it might have hit bad seas and it's delayed." Ivan shrugged, "Well boys, we either wait or-"_

 _He never had a chance to finish his question, for the sound of gunfire cut him off, and one of his lackeys hit the ground, he was stun, the sound of a tommy gun jolted him to awareness. It was Alfred who was ready, jumping in the air taking the bullet, and propelling Ivan onto the ground in cover._

 _"Fuck!" It was Ivan's turn to cuss, yanking out his sidearm with great speed, shooting._

 _Alfred groaned; hand pressed tight to his chest, the pain hot and sharp, left him gasping for air. He could feel his hot blood ooze down and soak his suit, and he cussed Ivan in his mind over and over._

 _Ivan took down an opponent with a bullet between the eyes, ducking back in cover, emptying the pistol for reload. "Fuck Alfred, some help would be fucking great right now!"_

 _Alfred grounded his teeth. "I'm fucking bleeding to death here you son of a bitch."_

 _Ivan paused his eyes trailed down to Alfred's hunched over form, seeing the puddle of black under him in the night hour. He panicked, "Oh shit, Alfred!" Dropping the gun, he placed his hands on Alfred's back coaxing him to lay down. "Fuck."_

 _Alfred growled through the pain. "Fucking kill the bastards. Then mother me asshole."_

 _Ivan stiffens his lip, and with a snarl took up his gun, with an eye of a hawk he took out the other two gunners, his lacky made a good shot on the runner. Ivan took satisfaction watching the runner drop from three bullets to the back. He only waited for a few more seconds which felt like minutes, listening out for another gunner, only hearing the labored breathing. "John get over here and help me with Alfred! We need to get em to the car now!"_

 _Alfred sucked in the pain as he was lifted, Ivan holding him up by his left and John to the right, painful groans erupted in his throat with every jerky step._

 _"Stay with me Alfred, don't fucking die on me." Ivan coaxed._

 _"Fuck you, Ivan . You should have fucking listened to me." Alfred ground out._

 _"Yes you're right I should have. I'm sorry all right."_

 _Alfred moaned pitifully as Ivan maneuvered him into the back seat, Ivan climbing in after, cradling Alfred's head between his thighs. "You dumb. stupid. fucking. Asshole, you damn arrogant fool, thinking no one isn't gonna try an touch you… fucking moron… dum…"_

 _"Alfred!" Ivan tapped Alfred's, panic rising as the rant trailed and softened. "Don't you dare die on me! Come on, stay awake, keep telling me how dumb I am." Ivan could feel the sting in his eyes and swallowed it down. "John speed the fuck up!"_

 _Ivan listens to the gurgled cough with dread. "Alfred, don't you dare. You better tell the devil to fuck off, I ain't givin up on ya. You better damn well live, I owe you a big favor, and I won't let ya die until I pay my dept."_

 _Alfred chuckled weakly with a grin, and he spoke softly; weakly. "There's no curse words left to truly describe your idiocy." Alfred chuckled again, and spittle of blood and saliva trailed down the side of his mouth as his grin widened. "I'm just gonna call you something new, something I came up with. Somethin no one's gonna use." Alfred's fingers lightly brush Ivan 's hand, feeling the heat from them. "Thump-ter…"_

 _-0-_

"Is there medical records of that date?"

Alfred tsks, shaking his head. "Of course, it's the big ol building at 45 and 11 st. Hard to miss."

The detective slouched back in his chair, rubbing his brow. "So you took a bullet for him. Why?"

Alfred raised a brow. "If you want to say it was out of love, then do so."

"What would you call it?"

"Contentment…" Alfred shrugged. "I guess."

-0-


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _Fields of swaying wheat sung as the wind blew, the vision before him blurred into an array of color until it settled into a deep crystal blue, the wheat distorted into waves, grass to sand. An overwhelming impression of warmth filled his chest, a sense of refuge, a grand sensitivity of being protected; as if two strong arms held him tightly under the rays of the sun. His sigh echoed, lost to the vastness of the sea…_

 _A gentle touch on his head brought him into awareness, lights leaving his vision blurred, stretching out his arm to bat away the tender contact which had removed him from serene dreams of fantasy._

 _A voice hushed sweetly to him. "Take it easy. You're going to be all right."_

 _Alfred's sight corrected against the light flooding the small sterile room, he felt the presences of the other sitting on his bed, his eyes fixing upon the silhouetted being. Soft dark eyes regarded him, a small smile of relief mixed with sorrow played on the man's lips. Alfred weakly smiled in return. "Idiot." He pathetically huffed._

 _Ivan chuckled, holding no humor in it; stained only with the shame and fear which haunted him throughout the night sitting by this man's bed. "Yeah, that's right, I am an idiot. I'm sorry, Alfred, I should have listened to you." Ivan leaned in, stroking the dark hair, feeling the grime and blood from the night's colossal fuck up dried and flaked beneath his fingers. "It will never happen again, doll."_

 _Alfred grasped Ivan 's wrist, bringing the dirtied palm to his lips, and placed a chaste kiss, the scent of blood and gunpowder heavy, almost overbearing. Alfred's hand drifted down, fingertips ghosting over Ivan 's strong forearm._

 _Ivan cupped Alfred's pale cheek, his thumb rubbing under Alfred's eye in firm loving strokes, their eyes locked on one another, the gaze held promises of the future, and it spoke silently between them 'never again.'_

 _-0-_

"I was lucky, nothing vital hit;he had to stay in that damn bed for a week." Alfred scoffed. "Ivan called it a small vacation."

"Why a week, if it wasn't life threatening."

Alfred yawned. "It wasn't the bullet that coulda' killed me, it was in case of infection, that would have done me in, if the doc's didn't keep an eye on it. Almost had me climbing the walls, lying there day in and day out, with nuttin to do but watch the lead paint chip away."

The detective quietly laughed. "I feel you on that." Slowly the detective unbuttons his collared shirt, exposing a bullet wound just under his left shoulder. "That had me off the force for a good month, damaged some nerves, lucky me, the pain wasn't so bad cause of it."

Alfred laughed, humored by their shared injury. "Well, look at us, ain't we just regular target practice for bad tommy handers."

"Seems like." The detective sat back, leaving his collar undone, eyeing Alfred through a considering gaze. "What happened? To the men that setup the ambush?"

"Now that, I can't say. Preserving my freedom an all."

The detective threw down his notebook, crossing his legs, flashing his badge, only to toss it in the direction of his notes. "Between me an you, no confessions' of any sort, just between two men sharing a drink."

"Why? It ain't got nuttin' to do with your case." Alfred leaned back, crossing his arms, "Cause I guarantee those men wouldn't be able to come back to do the deed, which, you've accused me of."

"I didn't accuse you of nuttin." The detective leaned forward, never taking his eyes from Alfred stern face. "I got a case to solve, and you were the last one documented to see him alive, I needed your story. Now, as I said before, I honestly don't believe you did it. This thing you had with him, and knowing you took a bullet for him, strongly shows to me, you didn't kill em. However, I still need your story, for records, you understand."

Alfred nodded, "Of course."

"Ivan made a lot of enemies, and I'm hoping you can point me in the direction of them. So I ask once again, and the whole damn story will not be on record. Only some names and a few small details, nothing that can put you behind bars, understand?"

Alfred tilted his head. "Let me get this straight, you want to know what happened to the men who crossed Ivan. The one's who tried to put him in a coffin, instead, put a bullet in my chest. What I tell you, detective, even if it be the murder of those men, I will not be charged, cause it ain't gonna be in my statement."

"Yes, that is correct."

Alfred moved in, as close as he could get without leaving the end of the bed, and cocked a brow. "Why?"

"As I said, he got enemies, point me in the right direction." The detective almost whispered.

"Still, something's off. Tell me the gospel of it." Alfred sneered.

The detective stood abruptly, making Alfred move back just as quickly, almost throwing himself off balance. The copper sighed heavily, looking out onto the streets through the dusty window. "Truth is Alfred, I take my cases' very seriously, and I don't rest until I got my man, hours upon hours staring at sheets of paper over dim lighting, a bottle of whiskey and going over accounts of witness's until it all blurs in a drunken stupor." The detective rested his forehead against his arm, slouching. "I lost my wife because I slave over my work. I talk to so many damn criminals daily, seen too much bad, ya know." He looked over his shoulder, almost smirking at Alfred. "So if I got to cut corners, and turn a blind eye to some facts just to close the case and get a decent good night sleep, then by god I will."

Solemnly Alfred nodded. "I understand. But as I said those men are of no concern. True Ivan made many enemies, some very powerful at that. But those men, well, they are all wearing a goodnight suit, and with that show of cruelty, Ivan took down small businesses, and not buying them out or runnin' them out like he had done with me. He took it as a personal vendetta; the only ones left were the main families, the gangs are gone." Alfred filled his tumbler with two fingers of scotch, drowning in down in one gulp, hissed at the burn. "He permanently removed his enemies. All that's left is the families, and if you want to go bang on their doors, then by all means, do so." Alfred chuckled dryly. "Then at least you ain't got to worry about never having a good night sleep."

"Any idea which one?" The detective inquired.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Alfred's head slumped downward, the tumbler in his hand fell to the floor. "But I'm sure I'll find out soon enough." He laughed softly. "Heck, I might even know exactly who took out Ivan , I'm sure I'll be asking the bastard in the flesh in hell soon enough."

"You believe they'll come after you?"

"Of course, the right hand man always inherits the business. And yours truly is that right hand man!" Alfred mocked a toast with a pretend glass. "Why do you think I'm sitting here getting drunk off my arse! So I don't feel a damn thing when that bullet hits."

The detective scoffed. "And you were worried about being incarcerated."

"I sooner die a free man, then be killed in a cage." Alfred growled.

"True enough." The detective replied, his finger traced the window sill, he still watched Alfred from the corner of his eye. "We still haven't talked about last night…"

"No, that we haven't…"

"I've heard you guys had an argument."

"That we did…"

-0-

 _The overbearing heat was broken by the pitter patter of rain, washing away the filth and grime built up from the scorching sun. The pavement hissed its joy as the withering plants stretched and drank its fill, not knowing when the next godsend of rain may occur once again. Windows were open allowing the cool breeze carried through by the rain into their homes welcomed and worshiped. The city quieted by the joyous coming of the rain, all but two men. A voice breaks out, booming over the sounds of the rain, littered the streets. You would believe it to be angry until you've listened, hearing the urgency and fear._

 _"Come on, we can easily just leave." Alfred pleaded, taking both of Ivan 's hands. "Leave everything behind, just me and you go someplace warm and sunny with beaches, and palm trees."_

 _"I can't, Alfred, I can't just leave all this behind." Ivan snatched his hands away, briskly moving away from Alfred's beseeching. "Why would I leave all this behind? I've done too much for my business to leave it all."_

 _"It's gone to your head, it's changing you." Once again Alfred invaded Ivan 's space, reaching out to wrap an arm around Ivan 's waist, resting his head against the man's shoulder. "You've made powerful enemies Ivan , do you honestly think they'll just let it go. You've muscled in on some of their territories." Alfred tilted his head, placing a light kiss on the bare neck. "They have old respected names, and they have double the connections. You don't stand a chance against them."_

 _Ivan shrugged Alfred off. "I've beaten the odds before, and I can do it again." Ivan smiled, whipping around, taking a firm hold of Alfred's shoulders. "Think about it Alfred, the power, influence I could have, I can change this severely corrupted city into something much better. I can funnel money into schools, charity, into our hospitals." Ivan 's eyes gleamed with crazed excitement. "Like Al Capone, I can have the government work with me, come on think about it…" Ivan kissed Alfred's brow. "I can save our city."_

 _Alfred took a shuddering breath, "You're being an absolute Thump-ter, you know."_

 _Ivan growled, shoving Alfred away. "Goddamnit Alfred! Why can't you see it?! Why are you so fucking blind?!"_

 _Alfred snarled right back. "Me! Al was only able to take that control because there weren't any damn families! Only gangs! Not here Ivan , there is four main families here, and you managed to piss on each one of them! What the fuck do you think is going to happen! They're going to fucking kill you and me right along with you and any poor damned bastard that remains loyal to you!"_

 _"Shut up!" Ivan roared, and a heavy hand smacked Alfred's cheek, the sound sharp._

 _Alfred felt the trickle of blood spill from his lip, tasted it in his mouth, but made no move to wipe it away. Instantly Ivan felt repentant of his action, yet, he made neither move nor sound to show his apologies. Alfred raised his head, straightening his spine. "You're a damned fool."_

 _Ivan could feel the anger rising inside of him, directed towards himself and his lover. He held himself firm, thrusting his chest out. "Get out." He nearly hissed between clenched teeth._

 _"Gladly." Was Alfred's only retort, snatching his jacket from a chair, he briskly stomped out of the apartment, only stopping when he was at the threshold. His face burned with vehemence, and his hold on the door handle was tight, making his fingers white from the pressure. He looked back only once, eyeing the seething Ivan , he shook his head, taking a calming breath. "Ivan , what you are trying to do is admirable, but be warned, it will never come to pass, and you are utterly stupid to think it will." With that, Alfred shut the door behind him, moving past the onlookers with a growl, making his way out to the street, making no move to protect his head from the rain. Sucking down all the emotions that swelled inside him, regret, rage, and fear._

 _-0-_

"What are you still doing here, Alfred? Why don't you leave the city? Before they come knocking at your door?" The detective poured the last remaining whiskey in both glasses, sharing it out.

Alfred sniggered. "Believe it or not, I wanted my story to be told. I've stayed in public places ensuring whatever copper was on the case," Alfred pointed at the detective. "Would be able to talk to me, cause I don't want it all told wrong ya know. I killed Ivan for the big seat, and some lacky killed me. No, I want you to know, I didn't kill him, and I would never…" Alfred took a deep breath, felt the sting in his eyes, the coppery burn in his throat. "I should've not left him, maybe he still be here if I didn't let him throw me out." A tear made its way to the floor, followed by another. "Maybe it was love, eh?"

Alfred berated himself for being so foolish as to believe he never did love Ivan, of course, he loved the man, and his heart broke, flooding him with the emotions he tried to drown down all day with whiskey and whatever else he had been drinking. He felt as if he would just die from these overwhelming emotions holding him hostage. His body shook, and he buried his face in his palms, trying to take deep breaths, trying to steady himself in front of the detective.

The detective moved closer, taking a seat next to the broken man, wrapping an arm around the trembling shoulders, consoling him as one would a widow. It should have been strange, awkward to him, but somehow, it didn't seem like any of those things. He hugged Alfred closer, resting his chin on his head. "I know you didn't kill him Alfred, your name will not be brought up." The detective coaxed Alfred to look up by gently pressing on his side. His heart almost broke seeing the man so hurt, so vulnerable, only known the man in such a short amount of time he had only ever seen the man bold, strong, and a little loose. "I need you to go, Alfred. Take the train far from here, make a new life for yourself."

Alfred choked on a laugh, his throat raw. "I can't." He whispered. "I gotta say my goodbyes to him, ya know, pay my respects."

"You know if you stay, you might not even get that chance. The moment they get you alone…"

Alfred cut off the detective's words, "Then stay, here." He moved in closer. "With me. Until the sun rises and then I do it and leave." Alfred closed his eyes. "please, stay."

The detective closed in, sealing their lips together…

-0-


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Alfred allowed himself this moment, loosing himself in the lips of the detective, giving access to the questing tongue, allowed those rough hands cup his neck to deepen their lip lock; pushed himself deeper into it, feeling the hard heated body next to him. He knew it wasn't uncommon for someone grieving to find solace in a strangers arm, the sorrow, the alcohol, and this sudden burst of passion fueled his need for numbness, a desperate requirement to anesthetize his pain, dull the hurt. The detective would do.

They grappled together, and there wasn't any romance only groping and tugging on cloth as they rolled the length of the bed, lips mashed together frantically, teeth clashing as tongues dueled. Both unable to taste one another's unique flavor, soured by the poisonous mix of scotch, and whiskey, neither cared. Devouring one another like it was some foreign delicacy, groaning against lips, and fingers tug silken hair, pulling and pushing.

Alfred gasped for air as the other man released his lips in favor of his neck, suckling and nipping; the detective was an aggressive beast, nearly growling above him devouring his Adams apple between forceful teeth. He only arched into it, needing it, giving access to those roaming pushy hands, hiking his shirt to feel the muscles of his back and slide down to manhandle his ass.

The man sat back, his chest heaving, taking in the strong masculine body below him, willing and wanting. He groaned in his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, "Get undressed." He rasped all the while undoing his belt. A shiver raced up his spine as Alfred slowly hauled up his shirt, and his fingers splayed over his chest, making a show of it. God, that man, was beautiful, he wasn't fair looking, nor did he look fragile. There wasn't any doubt; Alfred was as masculine as they came, powerful build, thick arched brows, and his eyes dark and stormy. It was unreal, not just a few minutes ago, he seen this man broken, vulnerable. He could see now how Ivan could love this man, he was breathtaking.

Alfred shimmied out of his bottoms, leaving him bare and exposed in all his glory, he reached up, hooking an arm behind the detective's neck, pulling him down to his lips. "Take away the hurt…" He rasped through clenched teeth, his breath hot against the detective's tongue, sucking in Alfred's words, deep into his lungs.

"Yesss." The detective hissed, taking Alfred's lips in another hungry kiss, sliding his hands over the naked flesh of Alfred's thighs, gripping them as he pulled the man's hips closer, their harden cocks meeting. He felt Alfred move in closer, hiking his hips higher to grind their cocks; he sucked in air through his clenched teeth, riding out their animalistic humping, wanting more.

Alfred growled, canting his hips faster, holding onto the detective's forearms, in a firm grip. "Do it, do it now."

Not one to wait, he soaked his hand with his own spit, the only thing readily available to him, lathering his cock, he paused. "You sure?"

Alfred eased back, letting his arms fall above his head, he stretched out, offering himself, submitting his body. "Yes…" He closed his eyes, body going lax under the firm hold on his hips, allowing the man to manipulate his body; use him. In his mind's eye he saw Ivan , felt his strong, calloused palms against his naked flesh, teasing him as he always enjoyed doing. He could hear his whispers against the hot flesh of his neck, could feel the breath under his ear.

-0-

 _"I love you, Carr'." Ivan nuzzled his neck, much like a cat scenting its property._

 _"Thump-ter, please. Stop teasing me." Alfred nearly whined, pushing his hips up, searching for more contact._

 _Ivan snickered, rubbing those jerky hips. "Anything you want, love."_

-0-

Alfred sucked in a shocked gasp, biting down on his lower lip, throwing his head as the blunt tip of the detective's cock popped in, taking the air out of his lungs. He heard the man curse above him, pulling out. He groaned his dismay, grabbing at the detective. "No, don't stop, please." Alfred growled, pawing and pulling the detective, needing the copper to make him feel whole once again.

"Okay." Replied the copper, placing the tip of his cock at Alfred's ass, sliding the head up and down relaxing the twitchy hole. With light nudges, his cock was welcomed once again. He ground his teeth at the tight heat, shaken by the sensations.

Alfred lolled his head, loosing himself once again to the claiming of his body, groaning as the man above him opened his taunt body. Shaky hands carded through his hair, grasping it tightly as hips rolled and grind against him, pushing in deeper. Alfred's lips parted, releasing a gentle sigh as those hips pulled slowly out.

-0-

 _The tongue slithered against his wrist, teeth scraping the bulging veins and tendons. "Carr', you taste so good." Ivan growled nipping his palm. "I could just eat you up."_

 _Alfred snickers turned into a playful growl. "I won't stop you." He pushed the larger body down, using his strength to pin the larger. He leaned down, purring into Ivan 's ear. "Eat me all up."_

-0-

Alfred shouted in surprise when the detective slammed his hips, and his mind left in an overall white blank, his eyes sharpen as reality returned, "Do that again." He growled, "Screw me raw."

The detective rolled his head, sitting up on his knees; he pulled the willing body closer, pushing those hard muscular thighs to the sweat coated chest, giving him more room to thrust. His eyes glazed, his heart thumped loudly against his chest, soaking in the scents of sweat, and lust surrounding them feel the heat radiating off them both wrapping around them like a cocoon. He wanted to savor this very moment, remember the lusty body under him, the feel of the impatient hips canting against his pelvis, gently riding his cock, he wanted to bottle the treasure under him, lock him away, keep him.

Alfred growled. "Just fuck me already."

"As you wish." The detective smirked.

Alfred hiccupped on his moan, gasping, the cock fucking into him so deeply, so hard, almost too hard, too deep; just the way he needed it. His mind a blank, no memories, no emotions; nothing but the persistent pressure of the cock inside him, fucking him the way he needed it to; slam, slam, slam, in and out with urgency. The vulgar sound of wet skin slapping against one another filled the room, the detective's moans, or perhaps, his own moans echoed off the walls, it didn't matter whom they belong to.

Alfred felt the fire beginning to build, his balls drawled up, and his cock throbbed in warning, not yet he pleaded, he needed for this to go on forever, remain in this world where nothing matters. However, he knew he never be able to make this go on forever, especially when the man driving into him kept stimulating his prostate.

The detective huffed and panted, overexerted; he could feel his back burning, never had he done this to anyone, use such force, piston his hips with great speed and force like a machine. He watched in awe as the body under him took it and begged for more, nearly scaring him out of his wits. Although, he would be remiss to say he didn't love every damn thrust in and filthy slide out. Alfred's body was indescribable, nothing he'd ever experience before, but more than willing to try again, and again. Which got his mind wandering, what else Alfred could do? His stared at Alfred's sex swollen lips, and a shudder raced through him, biting it down; filthy unadulterated imagery assaulted him, depicting what Alfred could do with those lips of his. "I'm gonna…"

The detective words were cut off by the sudden strangulation of his blood engorged cock, Alfred's body locked as his cum jetted out. The detective couldn't breath as he watched, for the first time, another man reaching his climax, watched as the cum pooled, and slipped on heated skin. He growled as he fought against Alfred's clench, pushing through to reach his own end. Fucked the chokehold, making Alfred's abdomen convulse and the detective moan louder. He moved in closer to the body under him, resting his forehead against Alfred's, both sharing breaths and moans as the detective finally came deep inside, splashing his cum over Alfred's anal walls. He jerked through the heated euphoria waving through his body, holding onto Alfred as if he were a lifeboat in a stormy sea.

As all passed, and the seas calm, they both watched the other neither moving. Dark eyes rested against dark eyes until lips lightly touched, and a gentle chaste kiss shared. Alfred slightly pulled back, wetting his throbbing abused lips. "Thank you…" His brow furrowed, he felt foolish, sitting up on the bed he crawled to the drawer hunting for a cigarette, knowing there wasn't any there.

The detective only smiled, fixing the sheets, opening them in a welcoming gesture. "I won't leave, Alfred. Come, lay down and sleep."

Alfred took the offer, laying with his back to the detective's chest, a decent amount of distance between them. The grunt behind him was his only warning before an arm surrounded him and hauled him into a spoon.

The detective sighed, resting his head on top of Alfred's. "So, truly, you don't want to take over Ivan 's business? Not even a little?"

Alfred groaned, "No, not at all, not even a - teeny tiny - little."

He laughed. "Good to hear." He kissed the top of Alfred's dark hair; suddenly he raised himself on an elbow. "I don't want you to leave."

Alfred grunted. "Not much choice."

"Do you want to leave the city, Alfred?" He questioned as he nuzzled Alfred's damp neck.

"No, not really."

"Then don't. I'll protect you, and I'm sure given some time, they will realize you aren't taking over, they'll forget all about you."

Alfred cracked open an eye, "You'll protect me?" Alfred snickered, turning over into the man's chest. "I don't even know your name."

"Detective Kirkland." He winked.

Alfred scoffed, tiredly slapping Kirkland's chest. Kirkland moved in closer, his lips brushing against Alfred's ear as he whispered. "Arthur."

Alfred smiled, tugging on a lock of brown hair, his fingers dropped the strain in favor of tracing the strong squared jaw line. "Seems fitting, a brutish name for someone much like a brute."

"A brute you say." Arthur raised a brow.

Alfred yawned, the alcohol, grief and orgasmic sex all taking its toll on his weary body. "Arthur, you saw the crime scene…" Alfred bit his lip, eyes locked on a few twisted hairs on Arthur's chest. "What… How bad… was…" Alfred's voice was leaving him, and fear and uncertainty blanketed him. "How… was it quick?"

Arthur drawled Alfred closer, his large hand covering half of Alfred's face as he hushed the man in his arms, his lips by his ear as he gently rocked the worn man. "No. I'll never tell you about that Alfred. I'll never tell you what I saw there." He hushed him again before Alfred could protest. He held him until the body he held succumbed to sleep; easing back he took in the lax face, looking younger, sweeter. He kissed the sleeping man's temple. "You'll never know what happened there, dove. It's cruel; you shouldn't know."

-0-


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

-0-

 _It was your typical night in the city, hot and muggy, the smog thick and smothering the clean breezes moving off the sea. A man, not much smaller than he in stature, storms off the building steps, pausing momentarily sending a heated gaze to the upper level window._

 _He watched intently as the man hailed a cab, leaving the scene._

 _He pulled up the collar of his coat, making his way into the complex, smelt of dying festering things, a wallow of a building, nearly ready for the seal of desolation. The stairs in no better condition, rickety and old, the wood groaned with each step; why would any man choose to live in such conditions was beyond him._

 _He could hear the chatter ahead, nearly deafening with mindlessness's of the night's activity; the chatter in the air mainly plugged by the observant elderly. Their eyes flashed, pointing to the door 3J, his destination. "Go on." He says, shooing the bystanders back to their apartments. "Nuttin' to see here." Tacky - he knew._

 _Much like sheep following barked orders from a dog, they herded into their units. He shifted slightly, stiffening his lips as his hand held the golden tainted doorknob. He readied himself._

 _Deeper he moved in, the only sounds in the darkened apartment were the soft echo of his steps and the rush of his blood thunderously beating in his ears. His foot knocked a toppled vase, looking down as it rolled off to the side, taking note of the broken glass skittered across the floor and the stench of spilt scotch and stale smoke. Against the side wall a shadow loomed, his hand tightens around the gun handle, his fingers twitch on the trigger; slowly he turned to the window._

 _"I told you, I'm not going to change my mind, Alfred."_

 _"Too bad for you, ya' should've listened." He grinned; with a jolt he shot the silenced pistol, enrapt, awed as the body crumpled down to the floor, holding his stomach._

 _Ivan sneers a growl. "Who's your paycheck?"_

 _He takes aim, slowly waving his gun to scare the prey. "Important people." He replied, taking a pause to squeeze the trigger. "Bad thing, boyoh' should have kept to your lines, you wouldn't be in this disposition if ya' done so."_

 _Ivan coughed bloody, unsure which bullet hole to cover, too slick to place pressure. He grinned looking on the stranger. "You ain't doin' nuttin' right if ya' didn't piss a few people off."_

 _He smirked moving in on the wounded man. "Know what I'm gonna' do next?" He only received a defiant glower. His smirk grew with each passing second, kneeling down coming face to face with his hit, digging the silencer barrel under Ivan 's chin. "I'm gonna' pay a visit to your 'doll'. I bet he'll be so upset knowin' his main squeeze is dead."_

 _Ivan nearly whined, his eyes pleading. "Leave him alone."_

 _"Sorry." He shrugged. "You know how it is… although." The man moved even closer, smelling the scent of death exhaling from his job. "I wonder, is he any good? Will he be worth slippin' under the covers with?" Ivan shouted, using the burst of adrenaline to slam their foreheads together, causing the man's head to whip back, his only response to Ivan 's act of violence was laughter, deep belly laughter. "Oh, he must be good then, a minx or tiger?" He goaded._

 _"Stay away from him." Ivan wheezed, feeling his body chill._

 _He stood up, hand searching his pocket. "I can't you see, you know how it is, I'm obligated to visit him." His hand dropped eye level to Ivan , his finger tapping the leather. It unfolded._

 _Ivan gasped, and the pain intensified once his chest expanded, but his mind couldn't comprehend the pain and sight simultaneously._

 _"For you see, I'm the man investigating your homicide." He smiled, pointing and emptying another round of his pistol, the muted pew and gurgled blood concluded half his work._

-0-

Arthur walked the side street, the morning sun shined commemorating a new fresh day, balancing two coffees and a bag containing two bagels and sugar glazed heaven in the form of pastry. He stopped at the brightly painted booth, stepping in to dial, putting down the hard earned breakfast for two on the flat top. "Yeah, get the big man on the horn." He tapped an upbeat tune against the glass, watching the people mull on by like busybodies, a young boy shouting the morning news trying to earn a few bucks, maybe for that fire truck in Tony's toys, or maybe for a trip to the candy store.

"Yeah, who is this and want ya want?" A voice boomed, pulling Arthur from his musings.

"Detective Arthur, just wanted ya to know the news."

"Yeah, and what's the word?"

"He ain't interested in taking seat, jus' want to take the money an live." Arthur picked the lint off his sleeve, leaning against the glass. "As for the big guy, well lets just say, I ain't got nuttin' gonna be another cold case."

He could hear the man contemplate though the receiver; almost see the man stroking his large thick chin in thought. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't, an if he does, well then that's a good pay for you, so I hear."

"No worries," Arthur grins. "I'll keep a close eye on that one."

There were no goodbyes, just a click of the receiver and dead air. Arthur stiffens, balancing the cups once again he continued down the block.

Alfred moaned the throbbing in his head pounding away, his mouth dirtied by the coat of alcohol and smoke; sluggishly moving to wipe the sleep from his aching eyes. For a moment he wallowed in the pain lost to the world around him, letting his brain slowly catalogue each ache and throb. As his mind travelled lower, a special kind of throb made him smile, deep inside him a gentle sore made itself known, one that he reveled in. He reached out searching for that warm, strong body and mussed wild dark hair, the owner of the lips he became addicted to over their long time sharing of the bed. Reality hit hard. Ivan was gone, his Thump-ter…was dead.

He sat up, ignoring the shock of sickness and dizziness filling his guts and head. He scanned his room, empty bottles, cigarette ashes, and two lone glasses littered the floor. The constant clicking noise from the record player chattering his brain; he remembered music, talking, a badge, and hunger.

He sat there, the blanket covering his groin, piecing things together, trying to fight against the fog heavy drinking causes, jerked as his door creaked opened. Why wasn't it locked?

Alfred eyed the man, taking him in, the clothes to the sunny smile, like a ton of bricks falling on his head it all came back. The detective, his story, the shared drinks, and the need for a special kind of company, he bit his lip, holding down his head from the shameful memory.

"Hey…" Arthur whispered, placing down the beverages and food, taking place beside Alfred, wrapping a comforting arm around the trembling shoulders. "It's okay, all right, it's okay." He pulled the slightly smaller body closer, resting his cheek against Alfred's hair. "I'm here." He coaxed with gentle, soft words, his free hand busying itself stroking Alfred's arm.

Alfred choked on his own voice, swallowing down the burn, and killing the retorts his brain concocted. He should push away, pull whatever decency he had around him and tell the man to leave him, but he couldn't… yet he should, he betrayed Ivan . Alfred strangled a sorrow filled chuckle; cheat on a dead man, good one he says to himself. Instead he borrows deeper into that embrace, contributing by a soft brush of his hand against the man's face. He needed this companionship not wanting to feel alone or able to be alone; it was all Ivan 's fault, before needing no one else, the loner in his own rite, turned now into a needy man.

Arthur held tighter, breathing him in, searching for the hidden scent of a man. His lips pushed tenderly on Alfred's temple. "You're in a tough spot, Alfred, and I'm going to help you, I'm going to protect you." Arthur whispers, stroking the bright wheat hair, smiles in victory once Alfred's body loosen all tension and surrender to Arthur's embrace. He always thought he was a slick talker, and it will be put into great practice to help a grieving man through his woes and still keep him in his arms…

-0-


	9. Chapter 9

**Epilogue**

Days turns into months quickly, months into years, and before you know it, you've come to realize you've been doing the same damn thing, routinely, day in and day out. It ain't so bad when you've got someone along for the ride, someone to help take your mind off of the trivial things daily life supplies you. Although, guilt, now that's something that builds up with the time, small, simple things remind you of past misgivings here and there, however, mine is a constant and daily reminder. Every time I look onto those eyes I know it ain't me he sees, he looks past me, through me, and somehow he always saw Ivan in my stead. It burns; the festering guilt thrives inside me, no matter where I go, and who I see in my passing Ivan is there, hanging over my head like a bad omen; imploring me to give up my claim on his love, and tell the truth of it all. It was just a job.

Lying to myself once again… He wasn't just a job; it was something I leapt on, pushing away the boss's top hitman clamoring my way to the top, convincing the old man I was the best pick. Who else would be better than a lawman? I already knew Ivan 's habits, who worked for him, and his business contacts, I've been watching him for quite some time. Funny really, I only watched him because Alfred was harder to trail.

Honestly, I've never fancied myself a 'pansy', I am rugged and hard, use to chase women for a shortly lived affair, I didn't lie to Alfred when I told him I was married and divorced, but there was something about him that made me go sideways. I couldn't put my finger on it when I first met the man. Ah yes, there's something he doesn't remember. We've met long before Ivan was done in, back when he still operated his clip-joint.

It was around the time I first started my corruption, turning coats from law to crook, and I'll never forget that night walking into the muck of it all. It was small compared to others I've been in, but clean, guess it was easier for the employees to tidy as the people drowned themselves in good times. A few colored women sang upbeat jazz on the small stage, danced in flapper dresses, flashed their thighs to excite the men who tapped their feet to their harmonious tune, catcalls and whistles aiding their performance. There were some important men hanging around the gambling tables, looking to win a few more papers for their bank; politicians and high society types alike. There was an abundance of lively characters lighting up the little humble club; it made my heart beat excitedly to the stomping of their feet. But we weren't there for a good time.

Further, back we went, the quieter it had become, as if whatever energy filled the club suffocated in the hall. With each step closer, it felt colder. Two robustly men blocked the metal door, and arms crossed and scowling, big men, the kind of men that'll make you think twice about starting something; found out later they were professional boxers. The boss's name was dropped, and the door was opened without any further questioning.

It was quite in there, could hear a pen drop and echo with the silence, almost deafening. I pulled my coat labels higher, staying back of the other men; like I was supposed to. Gotta follow orders, and I was only there as a Bruno, backup incase things went sour. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think, and I was a good cop, always went by the books… but there I was, turning coats, all for the dough.

Alfred was striking. Under the cover of my fedora, I couldn't help but to be struck by the man; he was unbelievably handsome, I've never had that reaction before, that instant physical attraction, especially towards a male. It scared the hell out of me. I couldn't stop watching him, he moved with the fluid grace of a feline, almost stalking, keeping strict eye contact with Joseph. I couldn't help but watch in awe as each muscle visible under that dress shirt flex with each miniscule movement, fixated on his neatly combed gold hair the light of the room made it shine with a deep blue. I couldn't help but listen to his every uttered syllable, his voice deep with a raspy baritone, perfect, it sounded so damn perfect. I wanted just to punch him in the face for being so damn flawless. No man had any right to be so perfect.

I listened to every damn word he spoke, yet I had no idea exactly what he was saying, listening but yet not paying attention at all. It was his body language that told me his point on the manner; he was cocky, his smirks and toothy grins proved that point, and so damn arrogant, the way he walked with no care waving off threats from Joseph if he stepped too close to the boss's territory. But I could see the keen intelligence he had behind those dark, stormy eyes, he knew his lines, and he knew not to cross them before we came here under orders. Our work there was done in a manner of minutes, leaving nearly as quickly as we came, although, my mind stayed there for a little while longer, taking in everything that was Alfred.

I drank myself in a stupor that night, fear of the things I felt towards that man, wanting to forget it all in the bottom of a whisky bottle. It was easy at first, as most things are, pushing it away by concentrating on my work in the office and outside of the office, but he haunted me, slowly with each passing day the memory of that night came more frequent, to the point I could no longer ignore it, and found myself becoming a stalker.

First I tried to play it off as surveillance; you never know when the chief would slap a folder on my desk instructing me to bring down the bootleggers. That's what I told myself, be ready. Yet, when I found myself watching Ivan and Alfred together, I knew something was going on between them, the subtle touches, the way they looked at each other; of course, I was making myself believe it was just friendliness, yet I couldn't stop grinding my teeth or clutching the wheel turning my knuckles white. I had such a powerful, passionate hatred for Ivan , it was unfortunate I had to trail him, Alfred was just too damn tricky to keep a beat on, dodging through buildings, loosing him with every attempt to trail him. Ivan , on the other hand, was just too damn easy, felt bad at some points, how easy it was. But when you think you're untouchable, it does funny things to your head. He walked those streets like he was a king.

So, in the long run, when I finally had the opportunity to take Ivan down from his disillusions of grandeur, I took it with ease.

Alfred… Frankly I wasn't so sure what I was going to do about it. I had so many thoughts and ideas, these fantasy scenarios, now it was choosing what I truly wanted to accomplish, what did I want? I knew I wanted him, and every particle inside me scream to fulfill my desires. I didn't go to him right away, no, I spent the rest of the night and day wondering how I would go about it, and what did I really want from him; so, choosing a path I went for it.

I knew he was drunk when I spotted him in that tacky dim bar, and he swayed in his seat, his arm loose as he smoked his cigaret, his other hand played with his glass, sliding it from side to side, and I knew then and there exactly what I'll do.

Being a detective isn't easy, you just don't walk on up and say I want to be this at the commissioner's office, it's something you earn by good police work. You got to know how to talk to people, how to manipulate them into telling the truth, set traps by words alone, it was something I excelled at. A talent hard earned. Too bad the pay is crap, turning this, if I so myself, damn good lawman into a corrupted bad-guy.

Over the years working with the mob, I became numb to the evils I'd witness and performed, I didn't feel wrong for doing them, I had no weight on my shoulders, felt good to let morals slip away, not to feel. Alfred slowly brought them back… That night listening to him spill it all out, watched him become more intoxicated with each glass he drowned down. Bit by bit I felt it, the duo emotions warring against each other, like Cowboys and Indians of the west, my want warred with my guilt. But in the end my want won the battle the moment I felt Alfred in my arms and his soft heated breath against my neck.

That very morning holding him close after that unbelievable passionate session I'd experienced, I knew without a doubt, Alfred must be mine.

It wasn't hard at first to look into that beautiful grieving visage and lie, all Alfred wanted then was comfort, security in his time of vulnerability, it was something I had no issues providing him. I kept him close by, convinced him to take his belongings and move into my humble house by the beach. All under the pretense of keeping him safe, also how serene it was a good place to contemplate and move on.

I expected the late nights of combined brooding and mourning, knew there would be questions, but, I had not expected the questions he'd asked or the deep interest in the case. He knew if was one of the families, knew it had to be, and it was the people Ivan was crossing, knew there wasn't much I could do about it, without the risk of getting myself killed. However, it didn't stop him from wanting to know the gunner, and I know he wanted that information to avenge his dead lover. I discovered he was snooping around behind my back, which, didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to kill him. So I had to do what any man in my disposition would do. Drugs.

I took him down 26th street, in the underground pansy club. There he can relax, and I would be able to touch him in a more than friendly manner without a worry about being ridiculed and possibly shot. It was there I got him to 'loosen up' and party with me, and he didn't comply easily, it took a whole lot of convincing to get him to try it, but when it hit his system, making him feel that utter euphoria he was hooked. He laughed and danced freely, the drugs and alcohol making him forget, making him live in a fake world. But I knew, I seen it every time his drugged hazed eyes took me in; he saw Ivan .

I knew this without any doubt because many a night he lay beneath me, wrapped around my slow thrusting body, taking me within him, he would whisper breathlessly Ivan 's name. I hated Alfred for it, hated myself for never stopping and walk away. I can't, I love him, and I loath him all the same; despise myself even more because it was I who made Alfred this way. I could never walk away from him…

So here we are now, lounging around this smoke filled club, Alfred reclining on my chest, swaying his arms airily to the tune, a drugged smile plastered on his face, as unfocused eyes playfully coax me closer to his lips. I can never deny him, and I only fulfill his requests for sensual contact, for his need of another pill, another drink when his glass goes empty; those are things I'll never deny him because it is for my benefit. Maybe one day I'll dry him out, bring back that Alfred I first met all those years ago, that cocky, arrogant, beautiful man, perhaps then I may be able to penetrate him and hear him whisper my name.

You don't seem happy, did you expect that happy ending where everything gets resolved and the 'good guys' win the day?

Real life… You never truly get what you want, not even I succeeded in getting what I wanted. What I have is a shadow of the man I sought after, only the shell; the core damaged and lost which I am to blame. Do I have regrets… No, but I do feel guilt, the remorse I feel is towards Alfred, for what I had done. For what I continue to do, the things I hide from him, and for giving him another pill per his request.

I look down to him now, and I can't take my eyes from him, as his tongue folds the drug, cradles it, letting his salvia dissolve it, he hums from the numbing effect it has and swallows it finishing with a satisfied sigh of relief. I can feel the tremble that works through him as the drug makes it way throughout his system, and I can almost hear the buzz, and once again, the weight of my guilt becomes slightly more. He smiles up at me, a toothy smile, as he burrows his head deeper, breathing in my musky cologne, his blunt nails scrapes against my bicep, I feel his hips slowly grind against me, and I know precisely what he expects of me.

It's the drug making his proprieties and inhabitation low, nearly nonexistent. He didn't care that we were in a club, didn't care about the men eyeing us up from the bar. Alfred knew, and I wouldn't deny him. He kept his back against my chest, his hand slithering to my zipper between our bodies; I closed my eyes and tilt my head, allowing his advances. With great practice, he eased my cock from my trousers, his hand working me over in a firm grip, making the blood rush in my ears with each upward stroke; god he always did this to me, sex with Alfred was something I will always treasure. I can't stop the groan escaping my throat, and vaguely I wonder why I would, this wasn't a quiet place, the chatter and music drown whatever noise we will pull from one another. His hand left me, leaving my cock throbbing and needing more, I gasped when I felt his slicked up hand return to my greedy cock. I didn't know if it was some lube or spit, and I don't care, as long as it felt good and made me slick enough to enter that tight ass.

I watched him from the corner of my eye as I felt him shimmy his hips, ogle the skin as he bared his ass to me, leaving his cock well hidden in his trousers. He took a firm hold of the base, angling his hips just right, sliding down with ease from years of this particular activity. I ground my teeth, almost holding his hips in a death grip, sure to leave my fingerprints in the form of bruises. Alfred seems not to mind one bit, maybe he couldn't feel any of the pain.

Damn, I lose myself in him every time. The moment his body swallows me up I forget to breathe. He stills against me, his body going limp on top of me, his arms wrap around my neck, his head lazily cradled in my neck. He looks like a sacrifice in my arms, giving himself over to a higher power, his lips parted his breathy moan makes my body tremble and cock flex. How can I ever walk away from him? I may have made him an addict, but he made me an addict first. I couldn't help but turn my head and suckle his neck; he gave me more room, moving his head to the side, exposing it entirely to me.

From the corner of my eye, I see several men taking a keen interest; I flashed them teeth in my snarl and glared, I didn't want them to have ideas. Alfred is mine. His lips touched my ear, "Move." He said, his lips grazed my ear with his uttered request, it sent shivers through me. I only could obey, moving my hips in slow, gentle thrusts. The feel of Alfred's tight hole surrounding me is indescribable. He was so warm, always so warm. His tight ass holding my cock hostage deep within him; I could die like this, die happy. I feel him move his hips in circles above me, making my cock swirl inside him as I moved in him, god, it feels amazing, stroking every inch, making my foreskin pull and twist. I hold him even more tightly against me, wrapping an arm around his middle, feeling the tight abs rub against my forearm; he may just be a shell of what he was, but what a shell he was.

I can feel that moment coming, feel my body start to lock, and my balls began to tighten, a fire built in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't stop, thrusting just a little more harder, a little more faster. I can hear him gasping lightly, panting against my ear, and his groans drawn out with each thrust. I hold him just a little more tighter, grind into him a little more harder, and then he did it, ruined me by poisoning the moment by calling Ivan 's name.

It hurt me; it did, and in retaliation I hurt him, nudging his head away by using my own, I bit him, bit him hard on the neck, he yelped at the unexpected pain, catching the attention of fellow patrons; I ignored them, pushing my hips up faster I fucked him. Letting go of the abused skin between my teeth I harshly whispered back. "Arthur." I can't do it anymore, and I can't hear Ivan 's name on those lips. Alfred will be taught the hard way, if it takes pain, then by god, I swear, and Alfred will say my name, he will say Arthur when I fuck him into oblivion because he is mine.

And it seems to work, he shakes his head muttering my name over, and over, and it sounds so sweet. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur." Yes, Arthur, something inside me snaps, and a wave comes over me, rolling over and over, and I spill everything I can give inside him. My body convulse under him, going lax under the numbness orgasms bring. But I can feel his body still high strung, teeming and needy for release. Slowly I slid my spent cock from his gluttonous hole, pulling up his pants to cover those firm gluts. Mustering as much strength I could from my orgasmic high, I flipped him over, smiled when he buried his face in my neck, still whispering my name. I slipped my hand in his trousers palming his wet cock, watched as he humped my cupped hand, he groaned with each push in, grinding harder, and moving quicker. The slick of his pre-ejaculate smeared my fingers; warm. He moved with urgency, and I held him closer, egging him on with encouraging whispers, licking and sucking the sweat of sex from his neck tasting his natural flavors.

Alfred's breath shuddered, and his fingers dug into my skin, I can feel his cock pulse and contract violently, his body vibrated and I felt his cum jet from his cock onto my wrist. I hold him even tighter through his climax, whisper 'I love you' with a growl. I know how much he enjoys my growl.

No, I can never walk away from him, and I won't. He is mine.

END OF STORY

* * *

 **A/N:**

 _Real life… You never truly get what you want, not even I succeeded in getting what I wanted. What I have is a shadow of the man I sought after, only the shell; the core damaged and lost which I am to blame._

Hello you guys. I want to thank you for the read. I haven't been on here since late August, so I want to thank you for still being with me even after the long wait! As with all of works, I am going provide you with explanations- so heads up!

 **Tone:**

The tone of a story, helps the writer convey the mood to their audience. Without the mood, the story seems boring, and the writing superficial. Tone, in written composition, is an attitude of a writer toward a subject or an audience. Tone is generally conveyed through the choice of words or the viewpoint of a writer on a particular subject. Every written piece comprises a central themeor subject matter. The manner in which a writer approaches this theme and subject is the tone. The tone can be formal, informal,serious, comic, sarcastic, sad, and cheerful or it may be any other existing attitudes.

With this story, the tone is rather dark and iffy. Seeing that is is a host of genres, Mystery, Romance, Crime, and Supsense, the tone is not expected to be light-hearted. Even with the instances of Ivan, Alfred, and Arthur, the mood will not change quickly; it will be brought out methodically; intending to staty that way for the duration of the work.

 **Reasoning**

This piece was simply meant to be an exploration into Ivan and Alfred's characters and relationship they have with one another. Honestly, I began this because I needed some practice with my writing style and at the time, since it took me a while to do this compared to my other works, I was trying to figure out the relationship Alfred and Ivan have towards each other. Like Monomania, this just some insight into what went into this piece, though it has been edited for length -if anyone wants a more thorough explanation of my thoughts regarding this, feel free to e-mail me (it may be mindless drivel, really...if you are not interested in my delving of personal interpretation, feel free to skip to the wee last-line disclaimer, I not-so-accidentally neglected to place at the top.)

With this, I wanted to convey what I see as the very obscurity that is portrayed in a scandalous relationship.

Alfred was a lackey here; following Ivan's plans, unwillingly at times, without much hesitation. Normally, he'll be the one in control, but not now; now's he's apart of Ivan's plan.

 _'"You win; it's yours once again, to do whatever you wish. Hell, you can take the blue eyed dame with you to fuck for all I care." He shrugged, yet, his facial features were stone.'_ This line here, bascially begins the start of their relationship. I envision it like a Mafia boss who deals cards, or assingments, to his crew.

I also wanted to explore Ivan's relationship with Alfred. I, as a fan, want to believe that Ivan knew deep down, that Alfred was not completely infallible in strength, but is so in heart...even though Ivan does not often allow himself to recognize that it could be Alfred's character itself, that makes him so strong as a worker. This somewhat explains why Alfred until the very end, did not break down, or show emotion over his lover's death. Only when he decided to take Arthur's proposal, a new one he has never experienced before, he becomes conflicted. Even when they were havign sex, Alfred was still thinking about Ivan, a trait that I believe is expressed so passionitly in Cold War/Antagonistic fics.

Ivan's _redemption_ at the end, becomes symbolic in their relationship. At once ignored, his insight is focused more onto where his answers really lay in their conflicting relationship. The relationship started off at first, as a boss-worker type with a spicy affair, but later developed into a deep, mutually-assured-destruction.

 **Reasoning Part II.**

With Alfred and Arthur, it is kinda like those type of Rusame stories that use Arthur as a front-running character in solving Alfred's woes, or the one he eventually ends up with. To some, it appears I took that type of route, but I can assure you, that is not what happened.

As shown in Chapter 8, Alfred ran to Arthur's shoulders, as a way of coping. Like a little blanket of comfort after a disastorous storm of hurt. Although Arthur's attempt to be with Alfred was unsuccesful, as Ivan was still the focus of Alfred's thoughts, in the Epilouge, it is explained the occurences that happened throughout the story, and more importantly, the nature of Alfred's and Arthur's relationship.

Here, it explains Arthur's attraction to Alfred, him finding ways to be in Alfred's prescene, finding ways to go _undercover_ as a impersonal prosceutor, and lastly, believing Alfred to be his grasp, only to have his hold on him crushed. The execution of his character was difficult and not at all perfect, but I believe that his role in the story was played out flawlessly, without any damages being done to his character.

Although Arthur does in fact say that in " _Real life… You never truly get what you want..."_ there are no provisions franted to the characters- in fact, it tragic to all them. With Alfred's love gone, Ivan's life ripped from here- and with that a friend turned potential lover, and Arthur's futile pursuits on a broken man, this story was depressing. Very, Very depressing. May be that is why this story is rated M. Ah, real life. Scary isn't it?

 **Conclusion**

In the end, Arthur killed Ivan, manipulated Alfred into believing that his lover's death was accidental, rather than premeditated. Thoughts on whether or not I was successful in any of this, (or whether the fic itself was successful in general), along with ideas on how to improve it or my writing style, are more than welcome.

Even with unfortuante endings, there is always the question, "Why do I never get what I want?". This is a prominent theme in the story, as I am assuming you have known that, but also a sad truth in today's society. You have already started moving toward everything you want. You are challenging the cultural premise that says, "I don't deserve it," or "I should be content with the mediocre life that I have," or "only smart/rich/genius people deserve that stuff." You **should** have everything you want! You **should** feel good! You **do** deserve good things! And you have acknowledged that what you've been doing so far isn't working, which means that you are open to suggestions about what will work.

Well here, it is no so simple. With life, there's always that sad desire that you can never get what you truly want. There is some truth to that, but that's not the defining factor. Don't let life pull you down! When you face unpleasant circumstances- and you will- that's no excuse to give up! Pursuing what you truly desire, and what you know your heart will guide you to, will push away all those unpleasant thoughts!

Even with the story's sad ending, I believe my friends, this is a good lesson to learn.

Sorry for the depressing outlook, but I wanted to give out some sage advice- even if it's cruddy.

 **Ending Note:**

Thank you for reading my work- you guys are awesome!

~Enchanting Grace


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